


Wake Up and Notice (You're Someone You're Not)

by a_sentimental_man



Series: oh love (rain on me tonight) [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Bisexual Harry Potter, Black Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter Friendship, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Harry Potter Has a Saving People Thing, M/M, Not Beta Read, POC Harry Potter, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Slow Burn, draco just needs a break but don't we all, when i say this is slowburn i really mean it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2020-12-22 19:23:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 29,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21081824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_sentimental_man/pseuds/a_sentimental_man
Summary: Draco Malfoy really didn't expect his fourth year to go like this. First, the Dark Lord comes to the Malfoy Manor, giving him no privacy and traumatic memories to last a lifetime. And now, Potter, of all people, wants to befriendswith him.Voldemort, instead of going to Riddle Manor during 1994, goes to the Malfoy Manor instead. Draco or his family were never equipped to handle him in the first place.And Harry could never resist his saving people thing.





	1. Prologue

Outside was pouring rain, the wind howling as if it held a grudge against every little thing that occupied its interest. The dark, eerie atmosphere pervaded, adding nothing to diminish the anxiety that was occupying nearly everyone at Malfoy Manor when they heard the ominous clang of the doorbell. 

Draco and his mother glanced at each other, a silent commiseration of, _at least we know this was going to happen, at least we're in this together, _as they heard the tell-tale sign of his father's aristocratic drawl and a thin, reedy voice he didn't recognize.

And a high pitched, chilling voice that he didn't have to recognize in order to _know. _

His mother stiffened imperceptibly before her stance relaxed into something more calculated, giving nothing away that was incriminating.

Her smile as she beheld the forms of a short, stout man who looked as if he had seen better days, with a baby cradled in his arms, was nothing short of welcoming.

'My lord,' she said, almost reverently, though anyone who knew her well enough could see the flicker of disdain in her eyes, her madness at this _thing _that was now the Dark Lord, going to cause grief and destruction to her family.

Visions of delusions and grandeur that was too much of a high price to pay, this time.

(One sister succumbed to madness, one sister leaving the family, never to be talked about. _ Sounds like one of those cautionary tales they tell pureblood children, _Draco couldn't help but think, resisting the urge to break into hysterical laughter at the irony.)

The Dark Lord appeared not to notice, gesturing imperiously with his short, chubby hand for his servant to lay him down on a high backed chair, though Draco couldn't help but wonder how he was going to sit upright in his… current state.

'Luciussss,' the sibilant voice hissed, as soon as he settled down. 'My most _ faithful _servant.'

There was an almost feverish glint to his father's eyes that Draco had never seen before, the byproduct of years of zeal and elitism finally coming to light.

Draco looked between his father and his mother as if seeing them for the first time.

His father; all contempt, rage, and dishonesty to those who were beneath him, kneeling to those who he truly believed in. His mother; calm, efficient, calculated, yet without the madness that lay within.

Draco didn't have a doubt that his parents would have both agreed with the Dark Lord's agenda once upon a time. Times, when all Narcissa could think of, was her traitorous sister running away with a mudblood when Lucius was the only thing that was keeping her tethered. Times before she had 13 years of peace for the first time in her life, with family. With _ Draco_.

'My lord,' his father said reverently, kneeling, seemingly uncaring of the fact that the Dark Lord looked a mere shadow of his old self, swathed in blankets, the still-red glint in his eyes the only reflection of his power. Narcissa wordlessly knelt down with him, subtly tugging a still frozen Draco down with her.

The thing was; there was a time when _ Draco _had believed in the Dark Lord's ideals too. That was before he had seen a too smart girl at Hogwarts who had always come on top of all their classes, much to his father's displeasure. It was before he'd seen Potter and Weasley - a half-blood and blood traitor - go up against the Dark Lord, and _win. _

It was before he had seen the half-crazed Dark Lord in front of him.

And yet - Draco could feel the Dark Lord's power, he really could; it swathed around him in waves, malevolent and foreboding, saying, _ yield to me, or else. _

Voldemort didn't hesitate before casting _ Crucio, _ a malignant twist to his mouth and bloodlust that he couldn't hide. The screams of agony, of_ please forgive me, my lord _echoed through the manor, something that had only happened thirteen years ago.

Draco suddenly felt nauseous. 

He could feel the walls caving around him, realizing that the threat that the Dark Lord presented was _real, _that his taunts about the Dark Lord to the Golden Trio weren't suddenly affected airs to make himself look better anymore. They were honest, terrifying, and far darker than he had imagined.

It was all he could do to hold onto his composure.

Voldemort lazily flicked his wand and the curse was suddenly ended. Draco heaved an inaudible sigh of relief.

'My dear, dear, Lucius,' he intoned. 'I suppose you were keeping the minister… influenced?'

'Of course, my lord,' Lucius whispered, still kneeling.

'Good,' a baby's smile was expected to be happy, reassuring; a comfort to everyone surrounding it. This smile was nothing short of chilling, a dichotomy that didn't go unnoticed. 'Then we can commence on our plans to get the Potter boy at last.'

Draco wanted to laugh.

Of course, it was Harry Potter.

It was _always _Harry fucking Potter.

* * *

400 kilometers away, Harry _fucking _Potter woke up with a start, scar throbbing in pain.

* * *

It had been barely a day since he had woken up with his scar flaming, Uncle Vernon's yelling in his ear telling him to _shut up if you know what's good for you, boy. _

He rubbed absently at his scar, wondering what it meant that it had hurt, especially two days after Ron had owled him saying that they were all going to the Quidditch World Cup. He hoped whatever he had dreamed had no relation - but was enough of a pessimist to know that it probably wasn't.

He simply _couldn't _remember most of his dream - all he could remember was the hazy form of Pettigrew, Lucius Malfoy, and a boy with pale blond hair that he would recognize anywhere.

And of course, the chilling words of Lord Voldemort.

_ Crucio. _

Harry shivered as the sadistic words of Tom Riddle washed over him. He still didn't know what that curse was, but knowing Voldemort, he was prepared to admit it wasn't anything good.

(Though he supposed he couldn't be called Tom Riddle anymore; this wasn't the charismatic Tom Riddle he knew from the diary, filled with ambition, this was someone, some_thing _else.)

And try as he might, he couldn't stop thinking about Draco Malfoy - not the Draco Malfoy he saw in his third year, arrogant in his beliefs - the Malfoy he had seen in Voldemort's vision, if only for a moment; the face of someone who had thought what was right all their life had finally realized they were wrong all along.

Harry felt some amount of sympathy for him, yes - but the other half of his mind couldn't help a twisted sense of delight at the fact that Malfoy was finally getting some of his own medicine, that he had seen what he had taunted Harry about all these years in Hogwarts was tangible and **real.**

He shook his head, trying to dispel the guilt he felt at the turn his thoughts had taken.

Malfoy had it coming for him, didn't he?

And. Well.

Malfoy was beyond help now, even if he finally realized who - or _what - _he was following, now.

Harry tried hard not to think about what he would do in Malfoy's situation, at what he would be forced to do, and was horrified to realize the spark of sympathy in his chest was growing stronger and stronger by the minute.

(Harry, though he would never admit it - or even believe it -was above all, a Good Person. He couldn't resist helping people than a teenager could resist skipping stones across the Black Lake.)

(In another life, Hermione would have called it his _saving people thing. _)

He needed to think. He needed to talk to someone who could understand him wanting to help Malfoy, or at least tolerate it - because apparently even **he **drew the line at Malfoy getting tortured by Voldemort - and then find out a way to talk Malfoy into joining their side.

Suddenly, he had the perfect candidate.

He _really _needed to send a letter to Sirius.


	2. Chapter 1

Thankfully, Harry was saved from overthinking - well, more than he already had - by the quite literally explosive arrival of the Weasleys at his uncle's house, Harry unable to help but feel the stress from the last few days melting away through Mrs. Weasley's motherly hug and Mr. Weasley ruffling his hair fondly.

Not to mention Fred and George's antics.

So it was with renewed determination that Harry decided against telling Hermione and Ron about his scar hurting - Harry _really _wasn't sure what they would say about all this, but a small part of his mind whispered he should probably give them more credit - and joined in on the merriment, pulling himself back to earth with considerable effort. Everyone was too absorbed in their own conversations to notice his slip up - or were too polite to say anything about it - and Harry was grateful.

'England was shameful, really. Absolutely shameful,' Charlie was saying gloomily towards Fred and George, apparently in a spirited debate with them about Quidditch.

'What happened?' Harry said, frowning slightly at missing everything interesting through his forced isolation from the magical world.

'It was 10-400 against Wales in the semi-finals…' he didn't appear annoyed at Harry interrupting; if anything, Charlie looked more interested at finding another person who was interested in Quidditch that wasn't his brothers.

Harry couldn't help but notice how the light danced the second oldest Weasley's eyes, though he resolutely put those thoughts away for future consideration.

'Always knew Wales was the better team anyway,' Harry replied, pushing past his attraction to glance at Charlie laughingly, sure he wasn't fooling anyone, especially the Weasleys.

'Harry Potter, I know you're a celebrity,' Fred started, one hand clutching his chest dramatically.

'But to betray the country you grew up like this?' George continued with faux tears in his voice. 'It's beneath you, I say.'

'I'm not betraying England,' Harry rolled his eyes, leaning back into his chair with a contented sigh. 'I'm just being _realistic_.'

'If that's what they're calling it these days.'

Harry threw his head back in a surprised laugh at Charlie's wording, thanking Merlin that his skin was dark enough to hide the warmth on his cheeks.

('I know you have a crush on my brother, Harry,' Ron would tell him later. 'But you don't have to be so _obvious _about it.'

And Harry, grateful and surprised at Ron's acceptance, wouldn't even try to deny it, and would just throw a pillow at Ron's near vicinity.

'Shut the fuck up,' he would say, code for _thanks for not making a big deal out of it, mate. _

And Ron would say: 'Not when it's my _brother.' _His way of saying _of course.)_

* * *

It was unfortunate, Harry thought, that he couldn't use any magic during the holidays to hex both the twins into oblivion.

They were taking way too much fun at Harry's crush on Charlie - and wasn't that mortifying, even fucking Charlie had noticed, enough to say, _Harry, you know I'm too old for you, yeah? _making Harry want to sink through the floor and die - and the twins, the gits, had way too much time on their hands if the kissy faces they made at Harry every time Charlie was near was any indication.

'Sorry about them,' Charlie whispered, glaring at his brothers fondly. 'they have no sense of privacy. Or shame. Or anything, for that matter.'

'It's fine.' what was it about Charlie, Harry wondered, that made him want to burst into flames every damn moment?

'Oi,' Fred said, pulling an exaggerated outraged face. 'I know we were all thinking about it.'

'But you didn't have to _say it.' _George continued.

Harry rolled his eyes fondly at both of them.

Thankfully, they were spared from the further conversation - and god forbid, _teasing - _with the arrival of Mrs. Weasley in their sitting room. 'Up so late, dears?' she asked, squinting sleepily at them through her eyelids. 'You should probably get some sleep before the big day tomorrow.'

Harry guiltily took a peek at the time on their grandfather clock and was shocked to find out that it was already eleven. He, Ron, Hermione, Charlie, and the twins had all stayed up talking until Hermione and Ron had bid them goodnight at around ten, Harry too excited about the upcoming Quidditch match to even think much about sleeping.

'It's fine, Mom,' Charlie said. 'I can just Side-Along Apparate them if they oversleep tomorrow.'

'Well if you're sure...' her concerned expression eased somewhat, before making an appearance in full force. 'If you stay up later than midnight, _so help me._'

All of them, even the twins, nodded their heads promptly. There were times when it was fun to cross Mrs. Weasley - or so everyone said, he still wasn't sure - but Harry knew, with absolute certainty, that this wasn't it.

Satisfied, she bid them goodnight and left them be.

'So...' Harry asked the first thing that came into his mind that would stop the twins from teasing him again. 'What's Side-Along Apparition?'

At the end of a _very_ long-winded explanation that featured dissected body parts from Fred and George - who were about to get their Apparition license next year, and were a never-ending supply of information as a result - Harry was certain of one thing; he _really _wasn't looking forward to Apparating, Side-Along or no. Why couldn't wizards have a more convenient form of transport? The Knight Bus, the Floo Network… everything just seemed unnecessary, and, well, _magical_ to him.

Now that his 11-year-old self's fascination with magic had abated, he just couldn't help noticing some obvious flaws in the world that he looked forward to escaping for most of his life.

And wasn't that just _great. _

* * *

The next day dawned bright and early without any incidents from either Fred or George, which Harry couldn't help but be surprised by. He could feel the thrum of excitement in his head, his heartbeat almost mimicking the words _Quidditch-Quidditch-Quidditch _back at him.

He couldn't even be mad at Ron for waking him up with a pillow to his head while whisper-shouting _Quidditch World Cup, Harry! _either_. _

He couldn't remember the last time he felt as if he'd belonged to a _family _like this; when they were all excited and were eager to share in the excitement. Even Hermione, who was smiling more and glancing at her books less so than usual.

Mrs. Weasley briskly strode forth and gave a kiss to her husband's cheek, enveloping all her sons in a bone-crushing hug in the process.

Harry, relaxing into her embrace, felt a familiar rush of affection for her, the same rush he'd felt when she accepted him into her house before his second year several lifetimes ago; no questions asked, simply a rush of motherly love and grace.

'Thanks for having me, Mrs. Weasley,' Harry said, smiling down at her.

Mrs. Weasley merely sniffed, her eyes looking suspiciously bright. 'Of course, dear,' she muttered. 'You're always welcome here, you know that.'

(And Harry resisted saying that this was the first time anyone had ever told him that, unconditionally: their affection had always been conditional; the Dursleys, taking him in yet forcing him to do their work for him, Hogwarts, but fighting basilisks and werewolves in return, never staying for the summer.

the closest he'd come to that was when sirius had asked him, last may, if he's wanted to stay with him, but harry couldn't help but wonder whether taking care of him would be an annoyance for sirius, or anyone else, really.)

Mr. Weasley broke the moment by clapping his arms briskly together as he checked the time on his watch - which looked exactly like an ordinary watch except for nothing at all like one in Harry's eyes - signaling them all to follow him up the hill where they would meet their Portkey, along with the Diggorys.

And Harry, with one last look at the Burrow and Mrs. Weasley's retreating figure, followed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter: quidditch world cup and we finally get to meet draco!  
comments and kudos are really appreciated.


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco gets a wake-up call.

The Dark Lord was in Draco's house.

The _Dark Lord _was in Draco's house.

The Dark Lord was in _Draco's _house.

It had been barely a week and Draco was looking forward to escaping the Malfoy Manor to see the Quidditch World Cup with more than his usual amount of fervor. The Dark Lord usually stayed shut in his father's study, the only sound coming from Lucius or occasionally Pettigrew entering and exiting the study.

It had been a long time since Draco had felt this stifled in his own skin, the itching _need _to do something nearly driving him insane.

He had always heard stories about the grandeur and glory that came with the Dark Lord's reign from his father, about a world without mudbloods, where purebloods were supreme.

It was now that Draco realized that his father had never said at what cost. And, looking at how eager the Dark Lord was to _crucio _his own followers, Draco knew that the cost was going to be high.

The sharp _pop _sound of a house-elf apparating inside his room made him jump. _Fuck. _He really needed to get himself together.

'Master Draco,' Mimsy said. 'Dinner is ready.'

'Tell Mother I'll be there in five minutes,' Draco replied, trying to brace himself for the awkward silence that seemed to be a usual part of their dinner these days. His mother, still angry at his father for letting a madman into their house, though with nothing less than polite and subservient to the said madman.

His father, unable to realize the danger that was in his own home, only conscious of the glory that was to follow during the Dark Lord's reign.

And Draco, unable to break the silence, unable to do anything to make himself go back to the way things were before _any _of this ever happened.

He _hated _feeling helpless like this.

He took a deep breath and tried to collect his thoughts, realizing that was the only thing he could do as he descended down the stairs.

* * *

His mother, noticing Draco's helplessness and god forbid - _loneliness - _had asked his father, faux-sweetly, if he could go to a friend's house for the rest of the summer, leaving no room for argument. Draco felt grateful for his mother for intervening - he was sure he couldn't stand a moment in this house otherwise - but. 

The thing was. Well. Draco had about one friend in total. It was an underestimation to say that he had grown up _sheltered - _his parents, fearing that something would happen to their one and only heir, had only allowed him to interact with his peers when he went to Hogwarts, only realizing that Lucius had asked Crabbe and Goyle to keep an eye on him when he had entered the train.

And his attempts at making friends didn't endear himself to other people, either. Sure, people didn't dare insult him due to his father's influence, but he couldn't make a name for himself that was above his father's, either.

Potter and his goons were a case on point.

Blaise was the only one who he _really _considered a friend - but he wasn't sure if _he _would want to, effectively, be saddled with Draco.

He took a deep breath and threw some Floo powder into the fireplace, waiting until the fire turned green before he stuck his head in, saying, 'Zabini Manor,' clearly.

He caught only a glimpse of what appeared to be expensive furniture before he came face to face with the dark-skinned teenager. 'Zabini Resi- _Draco?_'

'Hello, Blaise,' Draco said smoothly, trying to keep his composure. The next thing he knew, he was being pulled up from the fireplace and facing the first person his age he saw this entire summer. It was depressing, to say the least.

'What are you doing here?' Blaise hissed.

'I'm feeling thoroughly welcome here, Blaise,' Draco said sarcastically, surprised despite himself at Blaise's vehemence.

'That's because you're _not,_' Blaise snapped, and Draco couldn't restrain the stab of hurt that he felt. 'Don't look at me like that, Draco. You know exactly **why.**'

'I don't, actually.'

'Oh, really? What about the dubious houseguest you have? Does that ring any bells?'

'Well that's _my fucking fault, _is it?' Draco said, incensed. 'If I had it my way, this whole- this whole _thing- _wouldn't have happened at all.'

Blaise rolled his eyes. 'And still, you only care about your own comfort,' he muttered, finally gesturing for Draco to sit down. Draco sat down, interested in what Blaise was about to say despite feeling as if he wasn't ready to hear it. 'Have you, for one moment, thought about someone other than yourself? That not everyone is as privileged as you and has the ministry in their daddy's pocket?'

'What does that have to do with-'

'I'm a half-blood, Draco.'

Draco froze. That made no sense. Blaise was a _Slytherin. _And his mother was definitely a pureblood -

'My dad's a Muggle. Mom Obliviated him when she found she was pregnant. Did you ever wonder why I have my mother's last name?' Blaise said it quietly, almost as if waiting to ward off a physical blow. Draco, frozen in shock, couldn't respond. 'It's hard to think of blood supremacy when your entire _existence_ is a crime according to purebloods.'

Draco sat back and rubbed his hand through his hair. 'That doesn't mean anything,' he said, trying to salvage the situation in any way he could, the entire objective of Draco's visit forgotten.

'Your mother is influential, I'm sure no-one would figure it out...'

'That's the _point, _Draco! What if I _wasn't_ born privileged enough to hide it? Even now, all you're thinking of is ways to hide it when I don't even want to.'

Draco winced, knowing it was true.

'Enough about me,' Blaise said fake cheerfully. 'Why are you here, really?'

In the end, the awkward conversations were put to a halt as Draco made arrangements to stay at the Zabini Manor, uncaring of the fact that Blaise looked less than pleased as a result.

Draco could convince him eventually.

* * *

The day of the Quidditch World Cup dawned bright and full of possibilities for Draco. His parents had opted not to come, instead preferring to give their tickets to Mrs. Zabini and Blaise to go in their stead. Draco was just glad that he didn't have to deal with more awkward silences with his parents.

Not that he and Blaise were much better.

At least the tension between them had eased somewhat.

'Ah, Mrs. Zabini, Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Zabini, welcome, welcome,' Fudge said cordially, and Draco tried to repress his revulsion at the mere presence of that man. 'Lucius isn't here, I take it? _And allow me to introduce you to Mr. Oblansk — Obalonsk — Mr. — well, he’s the Bulgarian Minister of Magic, and he can’t understand a word I’m saying anyway, so never mind. And let’s see who else — you know Arthur Weasley, I daresay?_'

_Of course, we do, you imbecile, _he thought unpleasantly, his mood only souring as he caught sight of the entirety of the Weasley family sitting on _front row seats_, along with Potter and Granger.

Draco opened his mouth to make a snide comment about their wealth that the Weasleys entirely deserved, when -

Blaise elbowed him sharply on the ribs. 'Not now, Draco,' he murmured.

Draco rolled his eyes and sat down on one of the remaining seats on the second row, determined to complain about the _obviously _dwindling standards of the Ministry to his father.

_'Ladies and gentlemen . . . Welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!_

He sat back in his chair as the mascots for Bulgaria were announced, both Blaise and he no taking any notice of Mrs. Zabini's amused warning to 'close your eyes if you don't want to make an embarrassment of yourselves, dears.'

The Veela were _beautiful. _But Draco was surprised to find that they didn't really affect him at all. He could see they were pretty - he had **eyes, **after all - but other than that, he wasn't even close to feeling the utter devotion that most of the male population and more than a few women were feeling.

Blaise, besides him, appeared entirely unaffected, while Mrs. Zabini had closed her eyes. _Interesting. _

The arrival of the Irish team's mascots was no less remarkable; Draco could see what had appeared to be a green-and-gold comet that had come zooming into the stadium, which did one circuit of the stadium and split into smaller parts to zoom towards the goal spots. A dazzling rainbow broke across the stadium; at the same moment, a shower of gold coins fell from a shamrock that the leprechauns had made.

Draco resisted the urge to sneer as he saw that Weasley was actually _taking _the gold coins that had rained upon them like the imbecile he was.

Draco took out his Omnioculars and heaved a contented sigh as the match began.

* * *

The match had been surprising and unpredictable - and even Draco, who had gone to the Quidditch World Cup finals ever since he was ten, couldn't help but be amazed at the sheer skill and exuberance that Victor Krum and the entirety of the Irish team had exuded.

Even Blaise, whose interest in Quidditch only extended up to knowing that Quidditch _existed, _had been interested.

Draco was just glad that the tension between them had abated enough for them to _talk _about the match.

'That was fucking _amazing,_' he whispered as they entered their tent, not surprised at the spaciousness and obvious wealth of everything in the tent, from the plush gray curtains to the comfortable yet expensive forest green furniture.

He sank down into a chair and grinned at Blaise, who unashamedly grinned back. It was at that moment that they both heard the sounds of screaming from outside, and both, exchanging a startled look, drew their wands and waited for Blaise's mother to return from where she went to meet some of her friends.

The tension in the air could be cut with a knife. Draco could only hear his own heavy, ragged breathing, feeling, with a sick sense of certainty, that his father was somehow behind this.

That was only emphasized by Mrs. Zabini's arrival. 'It's not safe here,' she said, eyes darting between Draco and Blaise. 'Some Death Eaters are attacking the Muggles - it's only a matter of time before they come to the more… expensive tents to show off.'

Draco swallowed at the implication.

'Just.. get to the forest, and go straight or take the left, okay? And stay there until I come to look for you.'

'But, mom -'

'Blaise, you're a half-blood, okay? Your life means more to me than any amount of pride you could get by staying here. Just. _Go._'

And Blaise, surprisingly, fled from the tent, tugging Draco along with him.

'I hope you're happy now, Draco,' he panted, apparently unable to leave it _alone. _

'You _know _I don't want any of this -'

'Oh, of _course, _the privileged boy doesn't want his comfort to be ruined - oomph!'

Blaise was knocked abruptly backward by the Golden Trio, who apparently had the same idea as them and were running towards the forest. Because of _course, _they were. Draco could never catch a break, could he?

'Couldn't help hearing the tail end of your conversation,' Weasley grinned at Blaise, who had the absolute audacity to grin back. 'Guess all Slytherins aren't bad after all.' He continued, with a pointed look at Draco. Potter and Granger were noticeably silent beside him. Granger, in particular, had a calculating look on her face that wouldn't have looked out of place in a Slytherin. And wasn't _that _a horrifying thought.

And Potter. Draco could feel his eyes boring into him, almost as if trying to see into his bloody **soul. **It was unnerving, and Draco had never felt like a pixie under scrutiny more than he did now.

'What, no words to say, Malfoy?' Weasley continued, still with that infuriating grin on his face. Draco had never wanted to punch someone as badly as he did, at that moment.

But.

For some reason, Blaise's words kept echoing through his mind. _What if I _wasn't_ born privileged enough to hide it? _And, he realized, Granger, Weasley and even **Potter, **really _weren't. _

Suddenly, he felt _tired. _Tired as he had felt two days ago when he had realized that the Dark Lord was in his house and there was nothing he could do about it.

'Go to the left, Potter,' he found himself saying wearily. 'There's a less likely chance of them following you, there.'

With that, he strode determinedly forward, leaving the disbelieving glances of the Golden Trio and one Blaise Zabini in his wake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Regarding Blaise knowing about Voldemort being in Draco's house: Lucius is many things, but he's really not subtle. This was the man who pretended he was Imperiused and got pardoned, but literally no-one believed him. And Voldemort probably wants to alert the Death Eaters that he's coming back so they'll be more prepared - but the thing is, that leaves them with time to prepare to work against Voldemort if they want to defect, too :)  
Is this foreshadowing? Maybe.  
Also: please comment! I hate to sound like I'm begging, but I genuinely really want to hear what you guys think and it'll keep me encouraged to post chapters faster haha <3


	4. Chapter 3

'Well that was weird,' Ron finally broke the silence that had descended over them like a cloak. 

'What, Crouch disowning his house-elf like an elitist prick, or Malfoy behaving like a decent human being for once?' Hermione said, not looking up from the copy of the _ Daily Prophet _she was reading, the Dark Mark displayed in all its glory on the front page. 

Just _looking _at it made Harry sick to his stomach. 

They were all in the living room of The Burrow, too much pent up adrenaline in their bodies to even **think **about sleeping. Harry could hear the distant noise of something exploding in the twins' room and felt certain they were on the same boat. 

'_Both, _' Ron said vehemently, dragging Harry abruptly back to the conversation. 

'It _is _weird,' Hermione agreed, finally looking up from the Daily Prophet. 'And he didn't even make fun of how I was a muggle-born.' 

'He's literally doing the bare minimum, Hermione,' Harry rolled his eyes. 'You don't need to sound so impressed.' 

'I'm **not **impressed. Just… surprised, that's all.' 

'Well...' Harry said shiftily. 'I _ think _I might have an idea.'

Hermione and Ron slowly turned around their heads to look at him. It would have seemed comic if there weren't twin glares aimed at his direction. 

'Harry...' Hermione said. 'Don't tell me you confronted him **again?**'

'No, I didn't!' Harry hesitated. This was his one chance to back off and tell his friends that he was kidding, he didn't know what had happened with Malfoy either. They probably wouldn't believe him, but. 

But. 

They were his _friends, _weren't they? 

Harry swallowed down his trepidation and began. 'You know how my scar kept hurting in the first year when Quirrel was near? Turns out that wasn't the only thing that it can do,' he smiled grimly, determined to not look at his friends as they swallowed that piece of information. The Weasley's clock was looking more and more interesting by the minute. 

'I got a… vision. About two weeks ago.'

Ron opened his mouth, no doubt to ask what he meant by _vision, _when Hermine, no doubt noticing his anxiety, elbowed him in the ribs. Harry shot her a grateful smile and continued: 

'I basically saw through Voldemort's eyes? I'm pretty sure he hadn't _actually _gotten a body yet because...' he swallowed. He didn't know how to explain how out of the body he had felt, how his body fet wrong even to _him, _ how he was in Voldemort's mind for a moment and could feel all his hatred and anger and _need _to belong. 

Even while raising hell in the process. _ Especially _while raising hell in the process. 

'You don't have to explain it now, Harry,' Hermione soothed, trying to smile encouragingly although it fell short by a mile. Ron, beside her, was looking vaguely green. 'Just... Malfoy?'

'He went to Malfoy Manor with Pettigrew and his pet snake… I think she was called Nagini? None of the Malfoys were expecting him, even _ I _ could see that, but Lucius was _delighted. _But Malfoy's mother and Malfoy… they just looked scared, as if they were realizing what Voldemort was really capable of for the first time.'

'Shouldn't we **tell **someone about this?' Ron spoke up for the first time. 'I don't know about you, mate, but I really feel out of depth with this one.'

Harry sighed tiredly. 'I owled Sirius,' he said. 'And even if we tell someone like _ Dumbledore, _how's it going to help? It's not as if he has any power to raid the Malfoy Manor or anything.'

'Well at least you told **some **adult,' Hermione appeared appeased, for now. Then a smile, almost unbidden, rose to her face. 'You just want to help Malfoy now, don't you?'

'Well… maybe?'

'Harry Potter's saving people thing strikes again!' Hermione said, exchanging one of _those _smiles with Ron, ones that made him feel as if they've talked about him when he wasn't there. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of fondness at them, for that. 

But. 'My saving people thing?' he demanded.

'Harry, you have to admit you just rush into things that no-one else would do,' Ron explained. 'Like, last year, when you tried to save me from Sirius. Or the year before that, when we tried to save Ginny.'

'But you guys were there with me! I wasn't alone!' Harry protested, blushing. 

'We're friends with _ Harry Potter. _I don't think we have a choice,' Ron's smile took the sting out of the words, yet Harry couldn't help but wish that he was born an ordinary teenager - that he could, for once, be caught up in something that wasn't life-threatening. 

Ron, noticing his mood, nudged him awkwardly with his foot and extended his hand, which Harry didn't hesitate to lean against. 

Hermione rolled her eyes at them both, but Harry could see the soft gleam in her eyes that she couldn't hide. 

'Well isn't _this _a cozy picture,' Ginny suddenly said, appearing as if from nowhere near the hallway. 'Didn't know you were after Ron too, Harry.' 

Harry laughed, somewhat glad that Ginny's hero-worshipping of him had seemed to have disappeared at last. Her still having a crush on him while he had a crush on her brother would be _awkward, _to say the least. 'What, jealous?' he retorted, then immediately regretted it. 

Ginny, however, didn't appear offended. 'Might have been two months ago. Then I realized you were bent and I was more into Lu- someone else.' She plopped herself beside Hermione, apparently not in the mood to leave. Hermione, although surprised, just smiled awkwardly and made room for her. 

'Besides...' Harry said slowly. He was sure he wasn't imagining it when Ron had looked over the person standing next to Malfoy with interest. Ron, apparently noticing his train of thought, groaned softly. 

'Don't you _dare, _Harry,' he threatened. 

'I wasn't going to say anything,' Harry replied innocently. 

'Ooh does ickle Ronneikins have a crush on someone?' Ginny asked with a mischievous gleam in her eyes that reminded Harry of the twins for a moment. At that moment, he knew they were going to be friends for a _ long _time. 

'Some very male, very Slytherin someone,' Hermione said.

Ginny grimaced suddenly. 'Please don't tell me it's Malfoy,' she practically begged. 'You may be my brother, but I expect you to at least have _some _taste_. _' 

'Oi,' Ron said automatically before realizing what exactly Ginny had said. He gave a mock shudder. 'It's not **Malfoy, **Ginny, what the hell.'

'I'm sure you can safely say that _none _of us would have a thing for Malfoy,' Harry grinned. 

'Thank Merlin for that,' Ginny said, smiling. 'Now, tell me _ more _about him.'

And, for the second time that day, Harry found himself relaying the events that had happened in the aftermath of the Quidditch World Cup.

* * *

It was two hours later, with Harry and Ron both laughing and stumbling into Ron's room, that he noticed the letter lying on his bedside table, the owl nowhere in sight. 

_ Harry Potter, _it said, in a messy cursive that Harry could recognize anywhere. 

Harry ripped open his letter, uncaring of how Ron looked at him with a concerned expression. 'It's a letter from Sirius,' he said shortly, before looking at its contents. 

_ Dear Harry, _it read. 

_ I'm at Moony's right now, and both of us agreed - I'm coming to Hogwarts. I can feel you trying to argue with me but don't bother. There's obviously something going on and I'll feel better to know that I'm near to help you out if you need it. Think of it as making up for lost time, okay? _

_ And about Malfoy. Needless to say, with the number of things you've told me about him, I don't particularly _like _the kid but - I understand his situation more than anyone else. I was lucky enough to get sorted into Gryffindor and get a family, but not every pureblood was. My brother, for one. _

_ But that's a story for another day. _

_ If your pet Malfoy _really _wants help, I have this house in London. No. 12, Grimmauld Place. Tell him that you can offer him protection in the Black Manor. He'll know what you mean. _

_ One thing I realized after spending 12 years in Azkaban - is that the world isn't only filled with good people and Death Eaters, Harry. Some of them, especially teenagers, don't - didn't - have a choice. _

_ I think you'll know that better than anyone else. _

_ Love, _

_ Padfoot. _

Harry set down the paper with a smile, a tentative beginning of a plan in his mind for the first time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> giving ginny an actual personality in a slash fanfic? how progressive of me.  
harry: safe to say no-one's going to have a crush on malfoy  
me, chuckling evilly : u don't know what's coming, honey  
also i might have read pride and prejudice one too many times and couldn't resist adding that part in lmao  
please, tell me what u think about the chapter!!  
this is very late but happy hanukkah, merry christmas and happy holidays for anyone who doesn't celebrate either!! love y'all  
next chapter: pansy, hogwarts express and harry tries to act on said plan.


	5. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3.5k words baby!!  
safe to say this is the most amount of words i've written, and i enjoyed every second of writing it. it's my favourite chapter and i hope y'all enjoy <3

Harry had always looked forward to September 1st, and this time it was no different. Hogwarts had always been his home, and the fact that he was returning to it at last always made him incredibly happy, more than anything else in the world. 

That did _not _mean he was liable to wake up in the morning, however. 

'Harry, Ron, wake up,' Mrs. Weasley whispered. Harry groaned as he slowly drifted into wakefulness, Ron making a sound like a muffled assent while promptly falling asleep when Mrs. Weasley left. 

Harry rolled his eyes and grabbed a pair of jeans and a T-shirt and as he went into the bathroom. 

'Aren't _you _looking chipper today,' was the mirror's greeting as it looked at Harry's disgruntled face. Harry glowered. 'Fuck off,' he said, mouth full of toothpaste. 

His reflection wrinkled its nose in disgust. 'Good morning to you too.'

* * *

Harry, however, became _much _more cheerful as the day progressed, unable to keep his excitement at bay for another year at Hogwarts. For a moment, he was eleven again, looking forward to leaving the Dursleys to somewhere they couldn't follow, somewhere they wouldn't _want _to follow. 

For a moment. 

Then Harry remembered Malfoy, Voldemort, and everything else and suddenly that illusion was shattered. 

Harry was grateful for all the friends he's made, yes, but he sometimes couldn't help but think longingly of when he was a First-Year with stars in his eyes, only conscious of the new world that had welcomed him with open arms before he realized how conditional it was. 

'We're going to _ Hogwarts, _Harry,' Ron said absently, shoveling all his belongings into his suitcase as he always did. Harry, not having many belongings in the first place, only had the shirts and T-shirts he had worn while on his stay at the Weasleys' house to throw in, having done his homework in a fit of boredom in Privet Drive. 'Save the depressing thoughts for later.'

Harry smiled, a little broken around the edges. Not that Ron noticed. 

'Fine,' he said. If his voice was a little shaky, neither of them mentioned it.

* * *

Harry thought he had gotten used to the absolute _havoc _that the Weasleys radiated every time it was time for them to get to the Hogwarts Express, but it always came as a surprise to him anyway. 

He and Hermione were the only ones present who even looked remotely ready; even Ginny, usually quite put together, was muttering and cursing as she looked for her belongings upstairs. Hermione caught his eyes and released an involuntary gasp of laughter which Harry joined in. 

'Stop laughing at us, Hermione,' Ron said, dragging his trunk with difficulty down the staircase. Harry was about to help him when he saw Charlie on top of the staircase, apparently awoken by the chaos, uttering a quiet _wingardium leviosa. _

'You're _welcome_, Ron,' Charlie said, throwing a wink at Harry. Harry, looking at Charlie's sleep mussed figure, could only blush.

'I can do a levitation spell too, you know,' Ron grumbled. 'It's not my fault Mom doesn't allow us to use magic here.'

'I thought you couldn't use magic because you're underage?' Hermione piped up with interest, looking eager to digest all the new information she could. Harry, glancing at her, couldn't help but smile, feeling a surprising warmth in his chest as he looked at his best friend. 

'See, that law is only for muggle-borns and muggle-raised people,' Ron explained. 'The Ministry doesn't really care about whether we do magic or not and can't even distinguish between adults and children doing magic; it's more about the Statue of Secrecy than anything else.' 

'Oh so _that's _why I got a letter from the Ministry even though it was all Dobby,' Harry realized. 

'So you get to practice magic even in the holidays while we _don't?_' Hermione asked, a maniacal gleam in her eyes. Harry, knowing her for three years, knew that gleam could range from 'I have a great idea' to 'I have an insane yet also somehow brilliant idea.'

It was the same gleam in her eyes that caused her to come up with the idea to Polyjuice themselves, after all. 

'Not really, though,' Ron said hastily, no doubt also seeing the same gleam in her eyes. 'Didn't you hear? Mom doesn't allow us to use magic anyways. She says even the magic needs to rest once in a while so our core could develop.'

Hermione was successfully distracted, for once. Before she could ask more questions about what Ron said - which even Harry was interested in hearing - Mrs. Weasley strode into the living room and took a look around, her eyebrows rising higher and higher as she saw that it only contained Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Charlie, who was drooping on his sofa. 

Ron winced. 

'FRED, GEORGE, GINNY, GET DOWN HERE!' she bellowed up the staircase. Various noises of grumbled assent followed, and Mrs. Weasley, apparently satisfied, turned towards them. 'Breakfast, dears?'

Harry and Hermione, wide-eyed, nodded vigorously.

* * *

Breakfast was, unsurprisingly, chaotic, although Mrs. Weasley's meals were as great as usual, which Harry didn't fail to mention. 

'Thank you, Harry dear,' she replied, rubbing a hand through his hair fondly. Ginny smirked at him fro across the table. _ Suck up, _she mouthed. 

_ Shut up, _Harry mouthed back, hoping that Mrs. Weasley didn't notice. He and Ginny had developed a strange friendship that was filled with equal amounts of snark and respect and Harry didn't want anything to jeopardize that. 

Mrs. Weasley had noticed their interaction, however. Her speculative glance between them was observed by everyone on the table. _ Oh no, _Harry thought, almost bursting into laughter as he realized that Ginny had shuddered exactly as he had from across him. 

'Don't mind Mom,' Charlie whispered from next to him. And Harry didn't know exactly _how _that had happened but he wasn't complaining. 'She's always been rooting for you and Ginny to get together somehow.'

'Well, that would be, well...' _ appealing if I wasn't into Ginny's brother, in particular. _Charlie, noticing his train of thought, grinned. 'Don't worry, she'll realize eventually.'

'Hopefully,' Harry whispered back. 

It took a while for them to clear their plates, Harry belatedly realizing that Mr. Weasley was missing from the table. Mrs. Weasley, noticing his unsubtle look at his customary chair, said, 'Oh, Arthur had to sort out some things for Mad-Eye - he probably won't be returning anytime soon.'

'Mad-Eye?' Charlie looked up from his plate in interest. 

'Isn't he that barmy Auror?' Fred asked. Percy glared at him, looking uncannily like Mrs. Weasley for a moment. 

'He's a respected Auror, Fred,' he said pompously. 'Mr. Crouch said he helped capture most of the Death Eaters during the war.'

'Doesn't change that he's _barmy _now,' George taunted. Percy practically puffed up with indignation. 

'That's enough, you three,' Mrs. Weasley said sternly. 'Your father thinks very highly of him.'

The comment, _ And he collects muggle things he has no idea about for _fun, went unsaid. 

'Who is Mad-Eye, anyway?' Harry asked. 

_ 'He’s retired, used to work at the Ministry,” said Charlie. “I met him once when Dad took me into work with him. He was an Auror — one of the best . . . a Dark wizard catcher,' he added, seeing Harry’s blank look. 'Half the cells in Azkaban are full because of him. He made himself loads of enemies, though . . . the families of people he caught, mainly . . . and I heard he’s been getting really paranoid in his old age. Doesn’t trust anyone anymore. Sees Dark wizards everywhere.' _

Bill and Charlie had both decided to see them off at King's Cross, though, Percy, apologizing profusely, said that Crouch needed him at the office. 

'Of course, he does, _ Weatherby, _' Fred said happily. Percy went pink before hurriedly saying his goodbyes to his mother and Apparating. 

Mrs. Weasley had braved a muggle telephone to call for three Muggle taxis to take them to Kings Cross station, and Harry wasn't kidding when he said that it was the most uncomfortable taxi ride he'd had, with Crookshanks about to bite their legs any given moment, and Fred's trunk that shook every minute or so that the driver gave a wide birth to. 

'I feel bad so bad for the drivers,' Hermione whispered, clutching Crooshanks' cage to her chest as Mrs. Weasley paid the money. Harry felt certain that she had no idea _exactly how _much money she had to give, and was just hoping for the best. The drivers, on the other hand, didn't even count their money before rushing away. It was at long last that Harry, Ron, and Hermione stepped into Platform Nine and Three Quarters, Harry feeling at peace for the first time in a long time as he looked at the steam engine that heralded his coming home. 

Though Harry couldn't help but notice that the usual hustle and bustle were unusually devoid among those he recognized as Slytherins, and even some Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. 

Harry, feeling sick, realized that the threat of Voldemort was at the forefront of their minds. At that moment, his lingering belief that his vision was just that - a _ vision, _was washed away, replaced with a cold sense of dread. 

Even Bill noticed the unusually somber mood of the crowd. 'The only time I remember the crowd being _this _depressed...' his voice trailed away. Visibly shrugging that thought off, he said, 'Must be something to do with what's going to happen in Hogwarts this year.' 

'What is it?' Fred said eagerly, squinting suspiciously at a grinning Bill. 

'Yeah,' Charlie agreed. 'I might be seeing you all sooner than you think. Just don't tell Percy I told you that.' 

'What's _happening? _' Ron made a frustrated noise at the back of his throat. 

'Oh look!' Charlie said, disentangling from his embrace with Ginny. 'The train's almost leaving!'

'I hate you guys,' Ron grumbled, submitting himself to Mrs. Weasley's bone-crushing embrace, Harry and Hermione doing the same. 

Harry, laughing, followed after Ron as the train's whistle blew. 

'Thanks for having us, Mrs. Weasley,' Hermione said. 

'Yeah, thanks for everything,' Harry added. 

'It was nothing, dears,' Mrs. Weasley said fondly. 'I would invite you all for Christmas, but I'm sure you would want to stay for the holidays for one thing or the other.'

Ginny bore the same expression of outrage as her brother did at not getting any more information from them. They all clambered on to the train as the last whistle blew, Mrs. Weasley, Bill, and Charlie waving at them from the station as the train quickly gained speed. 

'I'll go look for Neville and Luna,' Ginny said, a tell-tale blush on her face as she sprinted away looking for a carriage. 

'What was _that? _' Ron squinted suspiciously at Ginny's retreating figure. 'I don't think I've seen her this interested at anything that wasn't Quidditch, before.'

'Isn't it obvious?' Hermione said impatiently, tugging the forward with her as they looked at full carriage after the full carriage. 

'Not really,' both Harry and Ron said at the same time. 

Hermione closed her eyes, almost as if she was begging for divine intervention. '_ Boys, _' she muttered. 'I would expect this from Ron, but you, Harry?'

'What do you mean...' Harry started, then abruptly remembered a moment two days ago when Ginny had been about to say something about who she was interested in and then had broken off. 'Ah.'

'You know too?' Ron complained. 'Help a bloke out and tell me, will you?'

'I don't really think it's my place to say,' Harry hedged as Hermione _finally _found an empty carriage and put her trunk on the compartment above the seats. Harry, willingly taking the distraction, set Hedwig's cage down and petted Crookshanks as Hermione let her out from her cage. 

'Exploding Snap?' Harry suggested, trying desperately to not sound as if he was trying to change the subject. Hermione gave him a _look, _but Harry was just glad that Ron hadn't noticed it as the ploy it was. 

They slowly relaxed as they played Exploding Snap, all of them content to be silent, for now. 

Until Hermione broke the silence with: 'Did you get a letter back from Sirius yet, Harry?'

Oh. Ron hadn't pressed Harry about Sirius's letter after he had seen Harry staring at it with a faint smile on his face for about ten minutes, and Harry had been incredibly grateful. But as a result, Harry had completely forgotten to actually _tell _what the letter had contained to his best friends beyond thinking about it. 

Harry quickly summarised what Sirius's letter had said, the weight that had descended on his shoulders lessening as he realized his friends were with him, no matter what. That he didn't have to face whatever was happening alone. 

'Offering to use his Manor… that was smart of him, actually,' Hermione said. 

'Wow Hermione, try not to sound so surprised, won't you?' Ron said, laughing as Hermione punched him on the arm in retaliation. 

'Really, though,' Hermione said. 'Do you think it's wise for Sirius to come to Hogwarts?'

'I don't know Hermione,' Harry sighed. 'Professor Lupin says it's fine and Sirius did manage to not get captured while everyone was actively looking for him.'

'You have a point,' she conceded. 

Ron, surprisingly, had the most positive attitude of the three. 'I don't think Lupin would actually let him go if he didn't think he would be safe though… Sirius is probably the last friend he has left.'

Hermione winced. '_ Ron. _' 

'What?' he asked, sounding surprised at her vehemence. 'It's true.'

'That doesn't mean-'

Her words were drowned out by the abrupt opening of their carriage door to reveal one Pansy Parkinson, who wasn't flanked by Malfoy, for once. Her hair was bunched in a loose bun and, like Harry, she had chosen to forgo wearing her robes until the last moment. Harry couldn't help but think that Muggle clothing suited her, not managing to disguise his once over for what it was. 

Harry, Ron, and Hermione stared at her in amazement as she strode forward and took a seat as if she belonged there. 

'Oh stop gasping,' she snapped, and _this _was the Parkinson they knew. 

'W-what are you doing here?' Harry asked, finding his voice at last. 

A Slytherin losing their mask was a rare thing. _ Pansy Parkinson _dropping her mask was even rarer. 'Potter,' she said, and Harry was sure he wasn't imagining the strain of desperation in her voice. 'I need your help.'

'With what?' Ron asked before Harry could. 'Why would you need his help anyway, you're a _Slytherin_ **\- **' 

'_ This is exactly why I didn't want to do it! _ ' Pansy exclaimed. 'Do you Gryffindors even _listen _to yourselves? Slytherin is evil, Slytherin is Dark...'

'It's not as if any of them have tried to prove otherwise,' Hermione piped up for the first time, and Harry resisted the urge to groan and bury his face in his hands. 'And you didn't try to stop Malfoy from calling me a mudblood, either.' 

Harry flinched. But then he remembered Sirius's letter, words about how some people had no choice except to follow, words that he didn't want to admit hit a mark. 

It was for that reason alone that he decided to give Parkinson a chance. 'But some people don't have a choice,' Harry said quietly, eyes fixed upon her pale face. 'Isn't that right, Parkinson?'

Parkinson laughed shortly. 'You've got that right,' she said. 

'Harry - '

'It's fine, Hermione,' Harry said, cutting her off mid-sentence. Hermione, looking a bit put out, subsided. 'I was just thinking about something in Si- Padfoot's letter, that's all.'

'You mean about his brother?' Ron asked. 'But it isn't the same - ' Ron's eyes darted towards Parkinson before he sagged back, defeated. Hermione seemed to be facing the same dilemma, torn between hexing Parkinson and listening to what she had to say. 

'I don't know who you are talking about, Potter, but please. If they have a modicum of sense, listen to them. And listen to me too,' Parkinson added. 

'I'll listen to you,' Harry promised. 'But one word about muggle-borns or blood-traitors -'

'And I'm out, I get it,' Parkinson replied, rolling her eyes. 'Not that it matters since my family's considered blood-traitors anyway.'

'Really?' Ron raised an eyebrow. 'And why was that?'

'My sister married a Muggle man and we refused to disown her,' Parkinson said flatly. The words hung in the air for a tense moment before Parkinson herself let go of her defensive position, sagging against her seat. 

'And the thing is, Potter,' she said, and all her bravado was gone, replaced with someone who had been forced to grow up too quick; too soon. 'The Dark Lord plans to return at the end of the year.'

None of them made a sound. Harry, himself, was shocked at how Parkinson disclosed that information so quickly, almost as if ripping off a bandaid, revealing the dirty little secret that lay beneath. 

Hermione and Ron had similar expressions on their faces. 

'Don't believe me if you don't want to,' Parkinson continued, misinterpreting the shock on their faces as disbelief. 'But I _ saw him. _ He didn't look like he was a human being but - _ I saw him, you have to believe me. _ He told me that he would restore the Parkinson's name to its former glory by Marking me _ \- _' Her voice contained an edge of hysteria. 

'I believe you,' Harry croaked out, the threat of Voldemort somehow too sudden to grasp, at the moment. Suddenly, this was much more serious than a child's game of chess they'd played during the First Year; this was real life, and it was terrifying. 'But w-why do you want _ my _ help?' _ What about Dumbledore? _went unsaid. 

'Isn't it obvious?' Parkinson's smile had a tinge of irony, almost as if she couldn't believe what she was about to say, either. 'There are two sides to a war, Potter. And now, it's between you and the Dark Lord.'

Harry shuddered, refusing to accept the truth that no-one had laid upon his shoulders like a lead weight before. Suddenly he felt _old, _old as Dumbledore might have had when he realized Tom Riddle was truly Voldemort, after all. 

'And it's not as if we don't trust Dumbledore but…' Parkinson trailed off. 'We _really _ don't trust him to have our interests at heart more than the greater good. There's a lot to be said about _ you, _ Potter, but you're _not _self-serving.' 

Harry opened his mouth to protest, then once again realized the truth in her words. When had Dumbledore ever, truly said he cared for him rather than in relation to Lord Voldemort? 

Before Harry could think better of it, he said: 'There's a house in London. It's called No. 12, Grimmauld Place, and it's the Black ancestral house. If you ever feel like you need to hide, it'll always be there.'

Parkinson took the news that he knew Sirius Black, an escaped convict, in stride. But:

'And you don't want _ anything _from me?' Parkinson's voice was filled with disbelief. 'You're actually as charitable as they all say.'

'That's our Harry,' Ron said suddenly, grinning. 'Charitable as always.'

'I don't need anything in return. Anything you need to tell me you can tell me of your own volition,' Harry said firmly. He and Pansy looked at each other, for a moment. 

'He's at Malfoy Manor,' she said abruptly. Harry didn't need to ask to know who _he _was. 'That's the only thing I can tell you anyway, Potter. Not as if it's much help, but...' she trailed off, and they were enveloped in awkward silence. 

'It's okay,' Hermione said, much more kindly than she would have had an hour before. Or five minutes ago, to be fair. 'I don't think any of us blames you for that.'

'And you all actually mean it,' Parkinson said disbelievingly, standing up. 'I better be going, but… _ thank you, Potter. _I mean it.'

'Of course,' Harry said awkwardly. A stray thought nudged its way into his head as Parkinson made her way towards the door. 'And another thing,' he said.

Parkinson turned around. 'Yes?'

'Is there any way you can get Malfoy? Alone, if possible?' he said, trying desperately to ignore Ron and Hermione's expressions that read, _ oh no Harry what the hell are you doing _as clearly as the day. 

Parkinson's expression changed to one of amusement. 'I'm not _suicidal, _Potter, but sure. I'll try to see what I can do,' and Harry had a feeling that that was all he was going to get from a Slytherin. He had almost been one, after all. Those thoughts, usually accompanied by a bout of self-loathing, surprisingly didn't come to the surface. 

'And don't be a stranger!' was Harry's one last parting remark as Parkinson left. Her only response was to flick him two fingers, not even looking back once. 

'So, Harry,' Ron said. Harry turned around slowly towards him, not mistaking the teasing tone in his voice. 'How does it feel to have adopted a bunch of strays?'

'I- shut u-up, Ron!' he muttered. 

'Anything off the trolley, dears?' 

Harry and Ron looked at each other and laughed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was going to post this chapter on saturday but i was like, what better way to welcome the new year than posting a new chapter?  
comments and kudos are always appreciated.  
happy new year's, everyone!!  
feel free to follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/kiyokozier).


	6. Chapter 5

Neither of them got to talk much further on what had happened since Neville, Dean, and Seamus dropped in on their compartment as they progressed towards the Hogsmead station, though Hermione and Ron were less than pleased if their looks were any indication. 

Harry, himself was glad at the interruption; it left with some time to think while Ron recounted the events of the Quidditch World Cup, hoping that Sirius wouldn't be _too _mad at him for pawning off his house. 

He looked up as someone nudged his shoulder, seeing Neville's assessing glance on him. 'You okay, Harry?' he said quietly, not interrupting the animated conversation that Seamus, Dean, and Ron were having, Hermione, having thoroughly lost herself in her book at that point. 

Harry forced himself to smile, surprising even himself with how genuine it was. 'I'm fine, Neville.'

Neville's suspicious glare didn't leave until he saw something in Harry's eyes and relaxed. 'If you say so,' he sighed.

* * *

It was pouring rain when the train edged into Hogsmead station, all of them shivering and hurriedly climbing into the first carriage they could find. 

A carriage which contained Ginny and another girl with blonde and the oddest glasses Harry had ever seen. 'Oh.' Ginny said flatly. 'Hi.'

'Try to at least _ sound _more enthusiastic, will you?' Ron said, a deeply annoyed expression on his face. 

'Oh I'm sorry,' Ginny rolled her eyes. Turning to Harry and Hermione, she said, sweetly: 'It's great to meet you! I've never met you guys in my life.'

'Anyway,' Hermione said hastily, upon seeing Ron open his mouth to start yet _another _sibling dispute. 'Who's your friend, Ginny?'

Ginny glanced back at her friend, who was currently reading a magazine called The Quibbler. Upside down. Though with Ginny's warning glare aimed at his face, Harry wasn't going to comment on _that. _

'This is Luna Lovegood,' Ginny introduced, blushing slightly, and _oh. _ _This_ was who Ginny was talking about. Harry felt a familiar, shit-eating grin edge into his face which Ginny no doubt noticed. 'Shut it, Potter.'

'I didn't say anything,' Harry protested as he sat down gratefully onto a seat, glad that he was safe from the downpour. He didn't envy anyone who had to find a carriage after them.

* * *

As a matter of fact, Draco Malfoy, _ did, _in fact, have to find a carriage after Potter. 

He was shivering uncontrollably, clutching his cloak tightly to his chest as it fought against the rushing wind. He was in a thoroughly bad mood from having Crabbe and Goyle from following him around like the useless loons they were; the rain seemed almost as if it was mocking him. 

To be fair, Draco _was _glad to escape the Malfoy Manor after the tense week following his return from the Quidditch World Cup, the mad glint in his father's eyes more pronounced than usual, his mother's displeased glares adding the sharp nail to the coffin. 

Draco shuddered as he remembered when he was summoned to the Dark Lord's office - it was his **father's **office, really, but did anyone want to mention that in front of the Dark Lord? - along with Parkinson and Nott. 

_ 'Draco, Pansy, Theodore, welcome,' the Dark Lord's sibilant voice hissed. 'I trust you're comfortable?' Draco fought the urge to break out into hysterical for the second time in the Dark Lord's presence. The _ Dark Lord _asking if they were comfortable, indeed. _

_ A cruel smile adorned the baby's face. 'Parkinson, Nott, what will I do with you...' the Dark Lord mused, twirling his wand around with a baby's short, fat hands. Draco, with a sick fascination, could only watch. 'A blood traitor for a sister, a _ traitor _for a father...' Nott's eyes were gleaming with a devout fervor that Draco was only too familiar with, seeing it in his father's eyes every time the topic of blood purity came up. _

_ Draco gulped, realizing that could have been him another lifetime ago - before he'd realized how futile the Dark Lord's cause was before he'd realized his best friend was a half-blood and that didn't change the fact that he was magically powerful in _the least. 

_ Parkinson, in contrast, was staring with subtle defiance; the same expression he'd seen on his mother's face every time the topic of the Dark Lord came up. At that moment, looking at both were like looking at parallel dimensions, a thousand could have should have what have beens. _

_ He wondered how Parkinson had gotten here. It was all too easy to imagine her family being threatened, her helping the only way she knew how to. _

_ Especially after a Death Eater's daughter married a Muggle. _

'Crucio,' _ the Dark Lord hissed, apparently growing tired of the continued silence. Draco flinched, almost expecting him to be hit, for a moment. _

_ Pansy _screamed. _ The Dark Lord laughed. She convulsed on the floor, looking like a puppet that had its strings cut off, submitting to the pain to end it in any way that she could. 'M-my lord,' she said, sobs coming out in quiet gasps ' _ Please. _ ' _

'Are you okay, Draco?'

Draco was abruptly drawn back to the present by Crabbe's words. He forced a smile on his face and said, 'I was thinking of the Triwizard Tournament, that's all.'

The two nodded awkwardly, apparently with nothing else left to say. Fucking idiots. Draco knew there was no love lost between them; the only reason they were even associating with him was because of their fathers' debts to Lucius, and he knew they much preferred to associate with each other than babysit Draco. 

Though he couldn't help but feel guilty at how his father had effectively forced them into this situation. 

Draco exhaled sharply through his mouth as the carriages pulled up beside the castle, wishing that Blaise was with him. The wind rattled alarmingly through the doors as Draco opened the doors to his carriage, trying desperately to hold on to his cloak that seemed determined to get blown away by the wind. 

He stepped out of the carriage and cursed as the rain washed over him, soaking him to the bone. He shivered and dashed up the stairs to the Entrance Hall, not waiting to see if Crabbe and Goyle had followed him. 

_ What an _auspicious _way to start the first day of term_, Draco sneered inwardly. 

He rushed into the Great Hall into his customary seat on the Slytherin table, narrowly missing the water balloon that Peeves had aimed his way. Blaise shot a smile at him from across him and Draco returned it begrudgingly. 

'I wish the feast would start,' Parkinson complained, echoed by most of those surrounding her since, apparently, it _was _a day for saying the obvious. Draco resisted the urge to glare at her. He'd been on edge of her ever since she had started associating with him to raise her station - which Draco, as a Slytherin, could understand - and it had only increased through seeing her at _his _manor. 

Before Draco could make a no doubt snappish reply, the doors to the Great Hall opened with a loud _clang, _the half-breed Hagrid leading a gaggle of first years with him. McGonagall went and put the Sorting Hat on a stool, which immediately opened its mouth and began to sing: 

_ A thousand years or more ago, _

_ Four wixen lived, _

_ All with a shared ambition - _

_ One to get power, one to get glory, _

_ One to get knowledge, and one to merely exist, _

_ The hardest task of them all. _

_ The intelligent Ravenclaw said, _

_ 'Let's make a school,' _

_ And the others agreed. _

_ There was never a more unifying front, _

_ Never a foursome of people, _

_ Determined, _

_ Against all odds. _

_ I may be just a hat, _

_ But let me just say - _

_ Unity, despite your house, _

_ In dark times, _

_ Will always persevere. _

The Great Hall was unusually silent as the hat finished its singing, the Draco knowing that the Slytherins, at least, realized what the underlying meaning was._ All the houses uniting are as likely to happen as Potter being sorted into Slytherin, _he thought derisively. 

'Ackerley, Stewart!' McGonagall called, as a lanky boy, trembling from head to foot, sat on the stool and put on the hat that McGonagall offered him. 

'RAVENCLAW!'

'Isn't this the fourth year in a row the first one got sorted into Ravenclaw?' Draco wondered aloud. To his surprise, Sathya Perera, who was sitting next to Pansy, answered his question. 'Five years, actually. Fun fact - it used to be Ravenclaw that had the most students until Potter got sorted into Gryffindor.' 

It was because of Potter. _ Of course. _ Draco wondered if Slytherin, if ever, had the most number of students that had been sorted into the first year. He was willing to bet that there _really _wasn't. 

Perera was one of the only openly half-bloods in Slytherin - and for that alone, Draco would have considered her a simpleton. 

But Slytherins, though nothing else, protects their own. When it became apparent that Perera was a _ genius _underneath her less than ideal Muggle parentage, who could rival Hermione Granger if they were in the same year - well. That complicated matters. 

Most Slytherins attributed that genius to her mother, who was a witch herself. Draco had thought the same thing, once upon a time. But, looking at Perera, he couldn't help but wonder. 

'Cat got your tongue, Malfoy?' Perera inquired, and Draco realized that he had been staring at the head table for a long time, not even answering Perera's question. He flushed angrily and opened his mouth to respond, just when a smattering of applause broke from the Slytherin table at the first Slytherin that got Sorted.

Perera winced at the booing that the new Slytherin got from the rest of the houses, the Weasley twins' hisses being paramount. The fifth-year quickly made space for Baddock beside her in the table. 'Hello, cousin,' she grinned as he sat down. 

'Hi,' Malcolm Baddock said shyly, and Draco designed to ignore the byplay. The Sorting was over in a few more minutes, with 6 new Slytherins in total. _ Which was better than the outstanding 3 we got last year, at least, _Draco thought.

And as Dumbledore stood up and said, '_ Tuck in, _ ' with Potter and Weasley loudly saying, ' _ hear, hear! _ ' well - Draco really _did _roll his eyes this time. 

It didn't take long for the food to disappear - everyone was tired and hungry from their journey to Hogwarts, and more than a few first and second years were practically drooping in their seats, uncaring of decorum. 

Dumbledore, at long last, stood up from his seat. _“So!” said Dumbledore, smiling around at them all. “Now that we are all fed and watered, I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices._

_ “Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch’s office, if anybody would like to check it.” The corners of Dumbledore’s mouth twitched. He continued, “As ever, I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year. _

_ “It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year.” _

A chorus of angry whispers descended around the Great Hall, and Draco couldn't help feeling the urge to join them. He knew about the TriWizard Tournament, _ of course, _ with all his father's talk of the Ministry's plans and the _ Dark Lord's _plans - but he didn't think that was about to come at the expense of **Quidditch. **

'Cheer up,' Blaise said, apparently noticing his despondency. 'At least Flint won't be Quidditch Captain anymore, then.'

Draco sighed in relief. That _was _a silver lining. It was Flint's last year of school, and he had wanted to win the Quidditch Cup with a zealousness that was only resembled by Oliver Wood, who would have hated the comparison. 

Draco waited smugly for the announcement of the Triwizard Tournament certain that the Gryffindors, at least, would not have been aware of what was happening. Dumbledore was about to continue with his announcement, when - 

The door banged open once again. 

Draco had heard many stories of Mad-Eye Moody - one of them being that, in no words, were he to _ever _approach him - and now it seemed as if he was about to be their Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher if Dumbledore's eccentric choices were any indication. 

How lovely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> was adding an oc necessary? no. did adding another poc character made my asian ass feel great? YES.  
lmao im pretty sure my updates aren't going to be as consistent as before in this month because i started school + it depends on the amount of motivation i have.  
if u saw me updating the number of chapters from 17 to 20 when i realized how much content i wanted to add to each chapter then mind ur own business  
comments and kudos are always appreciated and keeps me going!!


	7. Chapter 6: Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> an interlude.

_Dear Mother, _

_It was an eventful first day - the Triwizard Tournament was announced, but obviously, you would know of it because of what Father was telling us. But the most interesting thing is the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher… granted, it's not a simpleton like that idiot Lockhart or that half-breed Lupin but, I don't think Slytherin house would be better off this time._

_At least Lupin was _fair.

_Anyway. _

_It's Alastor Moody. Can you believe it? With the number of stories that father had told me about him, safe to say that I'll be staying as _far _away from him as possible. _

_How are things at the Manor with our new… house guest? _

_Your son, _

_Draco Malfoy_

_Dear Draco,_

_About Moody - you don't need to worry about him as much as you think you do. I spoke to your father, and both Moody and Lucius have more in common than you think. _

_As for your other question, please try not to worry about it. We're trying the best we can, and that's all I can ask for. With the Triwizard Tournament coming up, there's no way to say what's actually going to happen and there's no way I can guarantee your safety, as much as I hate to admit it. _

_Try to stay out of trouble and lay low for a bit, if you can. Tell everyone at Slytherin house too. Slytherin's protect our own, no matter what, and don't you _ever _forget that, my dear Draco. _

_Love, _

_Mother _

* * *

_Dear Sirius, _

_Guess what? Pansy Parkinson approached me on the Hogwarts Express today. She said she wanted help. At least we now know that my vision wasn't a figment of my imagination, after all. The only thing I could help her with was offering up your house - I'm really sorry for pawning off your house like that but I couldn't help it; Hermione calls it my saving people thing. And yes, she's reading this off my shoulder._

_Anyway, I really don't know what to do at this point. Most of the Slytherins are sticking too close together as if something's about to attack them, and I've never seen them so jumpy at the slightest thing - not even during that Chamber of Secrets mess. _

_And Malfoy constantly looks as if someone kicked his puppy, looks more annoyed with Crabbe and Goyle than usual and he keeps looking at Moody with this look in his eyes as if he's really _afraid _of him - I don't know. _

_Hermione keeps telling me that's because Moody was an Auror and Dr- Malfoy's father had probably warned him away from Moody, but even that just seems flat, to be honest. I've never seen him like this before. _

_ <strike>I wish you were here. Is it weird that I've only known you for a few months and you're already one of the most important people </strike> _

_Hope you take care of yourself, Padfoot. _

_Love, _

_Harry _

_Dear Harry, _

_First of all, please don't worry about me, okay? I'll be as safe as possible and that's a promise. I have 12 years in Azbakan to make up for, after all. _

_Is there a _reason _you didn't tell Dumbledore about any of this, Harry? I understand not telling him about Malfoy or Parkinson but if Voldemort is actually coming back… this is serious Harry. It still pisses me off that you have to be part of all this - I just want you to have a normal childhood without all the pressure to defeat Voldemort, that's all. _

_I know you won't like it, but I have to be a responsible adult, no matter how much I hate it. I'm telling Dumbledore about your vision, Harry. But don't worry, I won't tell him about whatever Malfoy and Parkinson are up to. _

_Just ... please keep out of trouble? I'll probably be at Hogwarts in two weeks and I really don't want to see you get into something else again. And with the Triwizard Tournament coming up… I don't trust whatever's happening, and I hate that you're exactly in the middle of it all. _

_Love, _

_Sirius. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> parallels between the parental relationship between narcissa and draco and sirius and harry... *chef's kiss*  
i posted another chapter directly after this, so pls don't forget to read that too! i know from personal experience that ao3's emails get messed up sometimes haha  
thoughts?


	8. Chapter 7

Harry chewed on his bottom lip as he tried to figure out what he should do next. Ron, beside him, was shoveling food into his mouth with no care in the world, Hermione too busy on her crusade to free house-elves to even _think _about food. 

Granted, Harry understood her reasoning. Just because house-elves had gotten used to their laborious tasks didn't mean slave labor was _ okay. _And Hermione, with her dark skin and first-hand accounts from her great-grandparents of how horrendous slavery was - knew better than most. 

Sometimes Harry wondered how the Wizarding world could be equal parts progressive and regressive, all at once. He had been gratified to find that most wixen didn't see a problem with same-sex couples or non-binary genders and yet. There was still rampant distrust against muggle-borns, werewolves, mermaids - anyone that threatened their perfectly ordered world where wixen were superior above everyone and everything else. 

Ron looked over her to share a grin with Harry, but Harry couldn't meet it with one of his own. For once, this was something serious, something he couldn't say, _ oh look here's a muggle-born with no idea of wizarding culture. _

Hermione, apparently noticing Ron's confusion, sighed deeply through her nose. It was the deep sigh of someone who was simply _done _with explaining her actions, and Harry couldn't blame her. 

He didn't say a word when Hermione strode off in a huff, carrying her armful of textbooks and more than one history book about creature rights with her. 

Ron, bemused, returned to shoveling eggs into his mouth as he realized no-one was going to explain exactly _why _she had stormed off. Harry, then: 'She's got a point, you know.' Quietly. 

'What?' Ron said. 'About the house-elf thing? Look, Harry, house-elves are obviously different from humans -' 

'And _ how _ exactly?' Harry retorted, unable to help himself. 'Because they_ look _different? Because the last time I looked, they could think and speak like us too. And I don't see anyone saying they _ like _slavery, Ron.' 

Ron's face, which had looked bewildered and hurt, went through a complicated series of emotions before it settled on understanding. 'Fuck, Harry,' he said, slumping back in his chair, looking at where Hermione went with a revelation in his eyes. 'I didn't realize.' 

'I don't think half the Wizarding World does, Ron,' Harry said softly. 

Ron nodded, his freckles standing out sharply against his pale face. 'I just wish we could do better, is all.' 

Harry laughed, though there was no mirth in it, for once. 'Want to go and look for Hermione?' 

'Who knows?' Ron said, standing up. 'Maybe I'll help her come up with a better name than _ spew…' _

* * *

Hermione was, unsurprisingly, at the library. But what _was _surprising was who she had with her. It looked as if Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini were having an animated conversation with her, her earlier anger no longer in sight. 

'Oh,' she said, abruptly breaking away from her conversation when she saw them approach her. Harry raised an eyebrow amusedly, glad that she wasn't livid any longer. Ron, however, was looking at Zabini and Hermione with an accusing look in his eyes and Harry restrained the urge to smack his head against his palm. This did _not _bode well for Hermione. 

Fortunately, even _ Ron _had enough sense to not make a scene in front of two Slytherins. 'Hermione,' he began. 'I'm sorry.' 

Hermione opened her mouth in astonishment. 'Well, that-that's the first time you've ever said that,' she managed. The Slytherins, beside her, was studiously trying to ignore the byplay, though Harry was certain they were listening in, though he couldn't blame them. 

Ron smiled ruefully. 'Harry knocked some sense into me, actually.' 

'He did?' Hermione said, surprised. 'That's a first.' 

Zabini laughed loudly from beside her. Harry glared at him but he appeared entirely unbothered. Hermione, suddenly realizing who she was sitting with, went crimson on the face. 

_ Ron's much paler face holds crimson better_, Harry mused. He didn't have to look at Ron to know that he was getting an entirely wrong idea about the relationship between Blaise and Hermione. 

'I was _just _talking with them about S.P.E.W' Hermione continued. 

'You really need to change the name to something else, Granger,' Pansy said, wincing. 

'As I was _saying,' _Hermione said, glaring at Pansy with a sharp look in her eyes. 'Blaise was just telling me about how they pay wages to their house-elves in Italy, I'm sure we could -' 

'So it's _ Blaise _now, is it,' Ron muttered. 

Hermione's nostrils flared. _ 'Excuse me?' _ she said, at the same as Zabini said: 'I'm _ gay, _Weasley, I'm sure your chances with Hermione are still intact.' 

A beat. Then: 'Hermione's not the one I'm into,' Ron said quietly, unthinkingly. His panicked face would have been comical in any other situation. Now, all Harry could think about was how painfully awkward this situation was. 

Blaise, for once, appeared at a loss for words. A deep blush was edging up his face. Ron, realizing his mistake, paled, rose up from his chair, and practically fled the library as if a fearing for his life. 

Hermione cleared her throat awkwardly. Pansy was the only one who looked genuinely unbothered. Harry _wished _he could say the same. 

'Moving on from that incredibly awkward situation,' she said, nudging Hermione's shoulder and eliciting a reluctant smile from her. 'Granger, I admire your dedication to freeing house-elves and giving them wages, but I don't think they are _ ready _for it yet, really.' 

'What do you mean they aren't _ready? _What about Dobby -' 

'Donny was a special case,' Harry cut in, casting a meaningful look at Parkinson and Zabini, who looked confused as to who they were talking about. 'Even Ron said that you have to admit.' 

'Whoever this **Dobby **is,' Pansy continued. 'House-elves have been indoctrinated into liking their servile position from their birth, Hermione. It's not going to go away when the only thing they fear more than displeasing their masters is _ freedom.' _

Hermione gave a defeated sigh. 'It's just… it's just _hard, _that's all,' Hermione's voice cracked in the middle and Harry felt a deep sense of sympathy for her hit him like a blow. 

Zabini, surprisingly, put a hand on her shoulder. 'I understand, Hermione,' he said, and that was the first thing he had said since Ron's abrupt departure, though his face still looked flushed. _ Glad to see even Slytherins can lose their composure, _Harry couldn't help but think. 

Hermione leaned into the contact, and everything was quiet except for the muffled sound of Madam Pince scolding a student for being loud, for a moment. 

The rare moment of peace was broken by the loud sound of the bell going off, abruptly reminding them all that they had classes. 

'Double Arithmancy with the Ravenclaws, now' Pansy said in distaste, standing up from her chair with far more drama than Harry could manage. 'What a _ great _ start to the day.' 

'At least you don't have Herbology with the Hufflepuffs, like us,' Harry volunteered, rising up from his chair himself. Hermione was hurriedly stuffing all her belongings into her bag and Harry shuddered to think how heavy that bag was going to be to carry, especially with her recent acquirement of ten more books on Wizarding history. 

Pansy rolled her eyes, tapped her wand against Hermione's bag, and whispered a quick spell. Hermione made a surprised noise in the back of her throat, making Harry and Zabini both look at her from where they were standing. 

Pansy rolled her eyes. 'Don't look so alarmed, Potter,' she said. 'I just spelled her bag so it would be lighter to carry, that's all.' She took off at a brisk pace towards the Arithmancy classroom on the ground floor, Harry, Hermione, and Zabini struggling to catch up after her. 

'Didn't suggest otherwise,' Harry panted. 'I was just _surprised. _Didn't think Slytherins were into that sort of thing.' 

'Common decency, you mean?' 

'Children, children, _ please _stop arguing,' Blaise drawled, looking amused. 

'Easy for you to say, when the person you've been pining after since third year admits they like you back,' Pansy said. Hermione choked on her laughter. Harry, beside her, resisted the urge to pinch himself. 

'T-third year?' Hermione managed, voice sounding faint. 

Blaise glared darkly over at Pansy. 'I thought you weren't ever going to tell anyone about this, Pans.' 

'That was before all this happened,' Pansy shrugged. Then, glancing over at Hermione for no reason whatsoever, she smiled. 'We're _ obviously _ going to spend more time with the Golden Trio now, after all.' 

As they descended down the spiral staircase, Harry couldn't help but notice the curious states they got from a lot of students at _Harry Potter, _walking with a pair of Slytherins. Harry, himself, would have been surprised if someone told him he would have a polite conversation with not one, but _two _Slytherins, a day ago. 

'Why, exactly, are you guys being so… open about _everything_? Especially after, well…' Harry trailed off.

'The short answer? We're tired, Potter,' Zabini said. 'Tired of being vilified because of our house, tired of being vilified for being a half-blood… you get the drift.' 

Before Harry had time to unpack the thought that _ Blaise Zabini, _like him, was a half-blood - Pansy and Blaise stopped at the entrance to the Arithmancy classroom. 

'Don't think I forgot about your _request, _Potter,' was Pansy's one last parting remark as Harry and Hermione made their way to the greenhouses. 

And **fuck. ** _ Harry _had forgotten about that.

* * *

'I made an absolute fool of myself,' Ron bemoaned quietly as they manhandled their venomous tentacula into submission. 

Neville, sitting on their table, was thoroughly absorbed in his favorite subject and didn't even look curious as to what they were talking about. Harry let the sound of Hermione answering his comment fade into the background, guiltily remembering Sirius's note that he got two days ago that was still in his pocket. It wasn't that he hadn't checked it - he'd checked it one time too many. Just the fact that someone cared about him, someone that felt like a _ parent _\- that brought warmth with it that he couldn't hide. 

And Malfoy - well. When Sirius had sent him the letter, all he had as a plan was to confront Malfoy and offer to help him; he hadn't thought about exactly _how _he could get Malfoy to accept his help. Or even _where, _for that matter. 

'Harry? _ Harry?' _Hermione's annoyed voice snapped him back to focus. 

'What?' 

'As I was **saying,' ** Hermione said, sending him a _ look _that said, you _better agree with me, or else _that reminded Harry eerily of Mrs. Weasley. 'I'm pretty sure he's interested in you too, Ron.' 

'Yeah,' Harry said quickly. 'Didn't Parkinson say-' 

'_ Harry -' _

_ 'What, Hermione_, if she didn't want me to repeat it, she wouldn't have **told **me-' 

'Miss. Granger, Mr. Potter, kindly refrain from arguing, please,' Professor Sprout's cheerful voice called out amidst sniggers from the entire class. 

Hermione flushed. Harry was sure this was the first time she had been reprimanded by a teacher; there was always Snape, but he didn't count.

Hadn't counted since Harry's first year, actually. 

'What did she say?' Ron said eagerly, once she was out of earshot. Harry, taking heed from Hermione's murderous glare, shook his head and mimed zipping his lips shut. 

'I hate the both of you,' Ron glowered. 

'To be fair,' Harry said, mind already wandering. 'We know that he's interested in you for _ sure, _now.' 

Ron's groan said that that wasn't the good and comforting news Harry had expected it to be. Hermione seemed exasperated at them both, which was a common occurrence, so Harry wasn't bothered. 

At least he knew what he had to do about Malfoy now. He trusted Pansy - but. It was always nice to do things himself, to help in any way he could _himself. _

Harry had always treasured the Marauder's Map and his Invisibility cloak. It was about time he used them both for the first time this year. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> harry trying to do everything himself since he's been neglected all his life and doesn't realize there are people more than willing to help him? mood.  
also - social commentary! feel free to skip reading this if you want to since this doesn't actually add anything to the plot and is my opinion than anything else, but. i fucking _hated_ how house-elves were portrayed in canon and in hp fanfics. Hermione was always painted as ridiculous for trying to free them and everyone just? accepted that a symbol of imperialism and wealth was _okay_ and didn't need changing. (that's not to say i hate Every Fanon Portrayal of house-elves; some fics, like ShanaStoryteller's, were absolutely amazing and i would lay down my life for them.)  
anyway, i've always wanted to explore blaise and pansy as their own characters than as an extension of draco so stay tuned for more pansy and blaise content!  
follow me on [twitter!](https://twitter.com/kiyokozier) we can commiserate over hp and a bunch of other things!


	9. Chapter 8

It had been a few days since Harry had decided to follow Draco around despite both his best friends' vehement insistence for him to _ please don't do that, Harry. _Currently, Harry hadn't had any luck in trying to see what Malfoy was up to or even confront him short of stalking him more than Harry was actually doing. 

Hogwarts was buzzing with the news of the approaching schools for the Triwizard Tournament, but Harry still felt distant from it all, more concentrated in on what Dr-Malfoy was doing, determined to help him in any way he could. 

(His 'saving people thing' unfortunately, had its misgivings.)

He just wished he wasn't so _ uncomfortable _all the time. 

He was wedged in between two pillars, trying to not breathe too audibly as he spied on the figures of Zabini and Malfoy, apparently in intense conversation with each other. Harry was close to dozing off; it was nearly 11 pm, and Harry had stayed up doing the exact same thing yesterday, Ron having given up staying up for him a long time ago. 

He jerked up from his position as he heard his name being mentioned. Harry wrapped his invisibility cloak tighter around himself and edged his way into the abandoned classroom through the tiny opening by the door, careful to not make too much noise as he did. 

Malfoy and Blaise had chosen a _ great _hiding place, Harry had to admit. The classroom was on the second floor of the castle and was ingenious in its placement; it wasn't placed on the densely populated part where the Transfiguration and Charms classrooms were, but also wasn't placed near the row of abandoned classrooms further down that was basically an invitation for secret meetings. 

The classroom wasn't even marked in the Marauder's Map, which was a feat in itself. Harry was ashamed to admit that it had taken him more than a day to figure out exactly where Malfoy disappeared with Blaise, though he never seemed to go there with Crabbe or Goyle. 

'So I see you're still hanging out with those blood-traitors, _ Blaise,' _Harry didn't have to see Malfoy's face to know that an all too familiar sneer was curling up his usually attractive face. 

'Draco, can you _ shut up _ for one moment?' 

'I'm sorry -' Harry could hear the surprise in Malfoy's voice and edged closer, determined to not miss any moment of their conversation with each other. He had a feeling that this was important, and even the quick, short flash of guilt at deliberately eavesdropping on their conversation couldn't sate his curiosity. 

'I'm trying to _ help you, _Draco -' Harry could hear the rawness in Blaise's voice and for the first time, considered fleeing and not looking back. This wasn't something he needed to hear. 

But something kept him back. Something just made him press his face closer to the door. 

'I told you I don't need your help! I'm **perfectly** fine on my own -' 

'Hanging out with Crabbe and Goyle, you mean? Who don't even _ like _ you?' Blaise's voice was bland. Apparently seeing that Malfoy wasn't going to respond, he pressed on: 'Potter wants to _help, _and that's something more than anyone else has been doing for you. 

'He's giving you a choice.' 

'It's not much of a choice, though is it?' Draco's voice was quiet, muffled. 'It's either become a Death Eater or sell my soul away or become a paragon for the Light Side and tolerate blood-traitors and mud-' 

'Are you even _listening _to yourself? This is going to be a _war_**, ** Draco. Is this how you want to live? Scared for your life every day because the Dark Lord is in your house? Tolerating Crabbe and Goyle even though they don't even _like _you and only follow you because of your father's insistence? I thought you were over your hatred of muggle-borns and so-called 'blood-traitors' after realizing that it doesn't _ matter -' _

'It matters to my _ father, _ okay?' Draco snapped. 'It's hard to let go of views that have been spoon-fed to you from the very moment you were born, not that I would expect you to understand.' 

The creaking of someone rising from their chair was the only notice Harry got to slip away from pressing his face close to the door. 

'You know what?' And Blaise's voice was thick with disgust. 'I'm not talking to you anymore. Talk to me when you've figured out how to have some _tolerance. _Or if you find that too hard, please feel free to never talk to me again. Your pick.' 

Harry slowly edged away, and not a moment too soon as he felt the door open with a bang. Blaise was just about to head in the direction of the Slytherin common room, when: 

'I'm sorry.' 

Harry had never heard Malfoy _apologize _before. And, judging by Blaise's stunned expression, he hadn't either. 

Draco, clearly seeing Blaise's expression, continued haltingly: 'I'm sorry about treating anyone who wasn't a pureblood like scum, Blaise. _ Especially _since I realize you're a half-blood, too.' 

Blaise had a half-smile on his face, though it was no less bitter than the look in his eyes. 'You can't just make an exception for me, Draco. You either admit that there's _nothing _wrong with being less than a pureblood or. Well. We're done.' 

'What would it take you to believe me?' Draco said, clearly frustrated and at the end of his patience. It was fascinating to watch. He didn't think he had seen Malfoy lose his composure this much; not now, not ever. 

'Well, approaching Potter would be a start,' Blaise's glance was wiry, almost challenging, and for the first time, Harry understood why Ron was attracted to the bloke so much. 

'Fine,' Malfoy exhaled a defeated sigh, but the wonder of wonders, there was some hope in there too. Harry felt his face curl up in an involuntary smile, not surprised when Blaise's surprised yet pleased smile followed. 

Harry was sure _he _wasn't the only one who was surprised for a second time, either. 

* * *

It had been a week since Malfoy's conversation with Blaise and it didn't look as if he was on his way to approaching Harry, either. 

Harry had seen the none too surreptitious glances Malfoy had kept shooting at Harry, almost as if daring Harry to ask what was wrong. Harry was surprised to find that they had barely exchanged two words this whole year; normally, Malfoy wouldn't hesitate to make a snide comment about Ron's, Hermione's, or Harry's families, or lack thereof, in Harry's case. 

Maybe he really _was _changing, after all. Harry was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. 

If only Malfoy would _approach _him. 

'Give it a rest, Harry,' Ron said, noticing Harry glaring at the Marauder's Map with more venom that was necessary. He and Ron were playing Exploding Snap-on Harry's bed but Harry had rapidly become sidetracked by thoughts of Malfoy and what he was doing. 

Harry grumbled a little and rested the Marauder's Map on his bedside table, whispering a quiet: _ mischief managed. _

'If you actually want to help him that much, why don't you just _ask him? _' Ron pointed out, throwing his card on top of Harry's. It exploded with a crackle, nearly singing Harry's pajamas in the process. 

'This isn't like approaching _Blaise, _you know,' Harry said, seeing Ron's face promptly go pink. Ever since that conversation in the library, Ron and Blaise had steadily grown closer with each other, but they were nothing more than friends. Yet. If Blaise and Ron's sickening looks at each other was any indication. 'You know nothing untoward is going to happen. Malfoy, though...'

'Don't think Malfoy is in any position to refuse your help, though, Harry,' Ron said, screwing his face up in concentration as he looked at his cards. 'He sounded desperate enough from the conversation between him and Blaise you overheard.' Ron's tone was disapproving and eerily reminiscent of Hermione when Ron and Harry did something she didn't approve of. 

'Look, I know you don't like this. But,' Harry bit his lip. 'If I didn't intervene, things won't go _ as fast, _you know?'

Ron sighed. 'Harry,' he said. 'It's fine for you to ask for help. Pansy said she was taking care of it, and she even called in a favor from Blaise and told him to talk to Malfoy. You don't _have _to do everything yourself.

'And Beauxbatons and Durmstrang are coming tomorrow. Please, if you've got to worry about something, worry about _ them, _instead.' This was said with a slight smile on Ron's face. 

Harry, though hesitant, conceded the point. 

'Listen,' Ron hesitated. 'I know the Dursleys treated you horribly and expected you to do everything by yourself.' _ well that was an understatement, Harry thought, _thinking of when he was five and burned his hand from trying to cook for the first time. 'But there are people out there who want to _help, _okay? Me, Hermione, Sirius, even Blaise, and Pansy...'

Harry felt a tired, hopeful smile, rise unbidden to his face along with a warmth in his chest that he, for once, embraced. 

'Okay,' he said quietly. Ron matched it with a soft smile of his own. 

'Okay,' he repeated. 

* * *

It was with renewed determination that Harry tried, in vain, to forget about Malfoy. The next day was filled with whispers about how the representatives from the other schools would arrive, and Harry, against his will, felt himself joining in on the excitement, sheepishly rearranging his uniform as they stood in line to wait for the delegations due to McGonagall's sharp look. 

It didn't help that the Slytherins, _ especially _ Malfoy, looked immaculate, as usual. 

It was at long last that both Dumstrang and Beauxbatons arrived with cheer, apparently determined to outshine each other with their methods of transport. Harry, though awed at Beauxbatons' horse-drawn carriage and Durmstrang's ship, saw Hermione practically vibrating with excitement from the corner of his eye. _ Probably trying to figure out how they operate, _Harry thought fondly. 

As they seated themselves on their tables, he saw the Durmstrang students were visibly struggling to choose a house table to sit at. The twins, saving them the trouble, waved them over to the Gryffindor table where they didn't hesitate to sit down. 

Ron made an undignified sound as Victor Krum sat across from him. Harry would go so far as to say that he _squeaked. _

'Welcome to Hogwarts,' Fred said. 

'If you ever get lost, you know where to find us,' George finished, winking obviously at all the Durmstrang students. They laughed, relaxing at last. 

'I'm quite interested in your castle,' Krum commented, surveying the entirety of the Great Hall, Bulgarian accent thick in his voice. 

'It _is _amazing,' Hermione said, looking at him keenly. Was she _blushing, _or was Harry imagining things? 'I thought Durmstrang was more expansive, though?'

'It is,' Krum agreed. 'Ve aren't supposed to say anything, but it's _ far _colder and contains even fewer students that Hogwarts, I think.'

That was all it took for Hermione to be wrapped up in a conversation with him, apparently forgetting her food in the process. Ron looked at them speculatively and exchanged a look with Harry. 

_ At that moment, a voice said, 'Excuse me, are you wanting ze bouillabaisse?' _

_ It was a girl from Beauxbatons. A long sheet of silvery-blonde hair fell almost to her waist. She had large, deep blue eyes, and very white, even teeth. _

_ Ron was purple. _

'You can have it,' Harry said, nudging the dish towards the girl. 

She smiled at him briefly before taking the dish and sitting at the Ravenclaw table with her friends, who all looked as if they would rather be at any place but at the cold of the Hogwarts castle. 

Ron was still red in the face. 'Did you - did you _see _her?' he spluttered. 

Harry laughed. He had to admit, she _was _attractive, but he didn't see the same appeal that Ron did; he was more into Cho Chang than he was into ethereally pretty girls. He briefly remembered how he had a crush on Charlie and how they both played Quidditch and - _ oh. Maybe he _did _have a type. _

At the Slytherin table, Harry could see Malfoy talking to Crabbe and Goyle, no doubt about the Triwizard Tournament, though it looked as if _none _of the participants enjoyed it. It was with surprise that he noticed that Blaise had abandoned his usual composure and was stabbing viciously at his food, aiming a glare at the Ravenclaw table. That just made Harry laugh harder. 

'What?' Ron asked, mouth full of food. 

'Look at the Slytherin table,' Harry smiled. 'I think _ someone's _jealous.' 

Ron choked. Harry thumped him on the back sympathetically, even Hermione interrupting her conversation to glance at him. 'Oh, honestly,' she muttered, rolling her eyes, returning to her conversation in a flash. 

'Are you Harry Potter?' A tall, short-haired boy asked Harry interestedly. The best Harry could describe him was that he was ruggedly handsome; he looked _cool. _Harry, blushing, instinctively tried to flatten his scar. 

'Yes,' he muttered. 

The boy across laughed. 'Andrei Dinev, at your service,' he offered his hand, and Harry automatically took it. 

'Don't think I need to introduce _myself, _' Harry said, flushing as he realized how rude he sounded all too late. 

'I _ like _you,' Andrei said delightedly. He turned to his classmates beside him and nudged them, pointing at Ron and Harry both. Ron was still looking at the Slytherin table, a lost look on his face. 'It's Harry Potter! And...'

'Ron Weasley,' Harry offered when it seemed as if Ron wasn't going to be forthcoming with his name. Ron snapped back to attention as he heard his name, and blushed faintly. 

'Sorry,' he muttered. 

Andrei opened his mouth, no doubt to introduce his friends when Dumbledore stood up from his chair and a hushed silence descended upon the entirety of the Great Hall. Even the Beauxbatons students appeared interested. 

_ 'The moment has come,' said Dumbledore, smiling around at the sea of upturned faces. 'The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket…' _

* * *

It was with a full stomach and a collection of new friends that Harry exited the Great Hall, even the prospect of the Age Line unable to put a damper on his mood. It wasn't as if he hadn't experienced danger before, though it would _have _been nice to become a Champion in front of Cho's or Andrei's awestruck eyes… 

Which was exactly when he was manhandled into an empty classroom by Pansy Parkinson. Everyone was too distracted by the arrival of the other schools to pay them much attention, which was the only reason why no one noticed a Slytherin abducting a _ Gryffindor, _Harry was sure. 

Ron was too wrapped up in his conversation with Blaise to even _notice _ the predicament Harry was in. Same with Hermione and Krum. Harry loved his friends and was happy for them, but _ still. _

'Don't look at me like that, Harry,' Pansy snapped. 'Wait _ here. _I told you I'll get you to talk with Malfoy, didn't I?' With that, she strode out of the room, returning with Malfoy ten seconds later. 

'Parkinson, what are you doing - ' was all Malfoy had to get out before he caught sight of Harry and broke off. Pansy rolled her eyes and exited, giving Harry a look that plainly said, _ It's all yours, Potter, _before leaving. 

'Malfoy,' Harry started. Then he didn't know how to continue. Malfoy too appeared at a loss for words, opening and closing his mouth slowly. 

'I suppose you know why I'm here, Potter,' Malfoy finally said, breaking the thick, tense silence that had fallen over them. 

'Of course I do,' Harry said. 'I know about your… predicament. And I want to help.' 

Malfoy, to Harry's surprise, gave a bitter smile at that. 'Saint Potter,' he sneered. 'And I'm sure you wanting to help has a lot of conditions? Me spying for you? Risking my life-' 

'Stop being a dick, Malfoy,' Harry said, crushing down the surge of anger that had risen over him. _ Murdering him now wouldn't be productive and land me in Azkaban, _ Harry reminded himself. 'I want _ nothing _ in return. I know _exactly _how it feels to be a victim of Voldemort and I'll be damned if anyone else gets hurt when I can prevent. Even you.' 

Malfoy appeared truly surprised at that. 'Well,' he said finally. 'I suppose you _ are _being serious about all this. And I _ can _offer all the information I know about V- the Dark Lord that I know.' 

Sirius had mentioned this was how Slytherins operated; they would rather believe they were equal in their terms, and _never _accepted charity. 

Harry rose an eyebrow. 'Didn't think you'd be so easy to convince,' he lied. From overhearing Malfoy's conversation with Blaise, he knew _ exactly _ how miserable Draco was. 'But if you _ do _want my help, I just want one thing in return.' 

'What is it?' Malfoy appeared as if preparing himself for the worst. 

'Meet up with me, Ron, Hermione, Pansy and Blaise,' Harry blurted before he could think better of it 'I don't ask you to be _ friends _ with them, but learn to be tolerant of them, at least.' 

'Merlin helps me with Gryffindors and their foolish notions,' Draco muttered before sighing. He extended his hand. 'I accept.' 

At that moment, looking at his outstretched hand, all Harry could think about was a scruffy eleven-year-old and too arrogant eleven-year-old, both looking at each other as if alien. One entitled, one not. 

Harry was sure Malfoy was thinking the same thing. 

The irony of Harry asking Draco to hang out with his friends when Draco had said, _ I'll show you the right sort, Potter, _didn't go unnoticed by either of them. Harry had never, ever, regretted not accepting Malfoy's hand in their first year. 

But Harry, looking at Malfoy, couldn't help but feel that, this time, if he didn't accept, he would end up regretting it. 

Harry smiled and accepted his hand. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and kudos always make my day!!


	10. Chapter 9

'You did _ what?' _

Predictably, Harry had expected _ some _ resistance from his friends' part at his decision after confronting Malfoy and of being automatically considered a part of Making Draco Malfoy Less of an Elitist project. To be fair, _ Harry _hadn't expected their encounter to go that well. 

He had expected a little resistance, at least. 

Though he still felt suspicious of Malfoy - an innate response after being bullied by him for so long, Harry figured - the fact that Malfoy didn't automatically start sprouting pure-blood rhetoric after being confronted went a long way. 

Ron threw up his hands in despair. 'There's no arguing with him, Hermione,' he said. 'It's not like he's going to listen to us.'

'You've got a point,' Hermione replied, smiling slightly despite herself. 

'It's not like there was anything else I could do,' Harry huffed, sinking back down into his chair in the Gryffindor common room. It was the day after the arrival of the other schools, and Harry hadn't had the heart to tell Hermione and Ron what had happened yesterday, with their obvious excitement over talking to Viktor and Blaise, respectively. 

Which was why he was filling them in the morning in the first place. The first thing Harry had done after breakfast was to drag them to their usual seats by the fireplace with a quick _ we need to talk. _

'What are we going to do now?' Ron said now, apparently voicing what they were all thinking. Harry shrugged. Then both, in unison, looked at Hermione, who had a thoughtful look on her face. 

She flushed as she saw their glances at her. '_ What? _ ' she said. They continued to stare at her, both their faces taking on a deadpan expression that said, _ we know you know, Hermione. _Finally, she relented. 'Fine. Harry, I need you to send a letter to Pansy, Blaise, and Malfoy. Tell them to meet us near the kitchens in… 30 minutes.'

'I thought you didn't approve of the treatment house-elves were getting?' Harry said, scrambling to find a piece of paper. 

'I just realized there are more detrimental ways to achieve equality than by outright boycotting, that's all,' she said. 

'Hermione…' Harry hesitated briefly before tearing off a piece of parchment from his unfinished essay and scribbling a quick note to Pansy, Blaise, and Malfoy. He looked up to find Hermione frowning over at the essay, along with someone akin to hurt in her eyes. 

Oh. _ Shit. _

'You know I don't mean it in a bad way,' he assured her. 'I just think you get too carried away sometimes to realize that revolution isn't done in a day. Or by school children, for that matter.' 

Hermione got that determined glint in her eyes that Harry realized all too late that spelled trouble. 

'If anyone can do it, it's you,' Ron broke in before Harry could put his foot in his mouth any further than he already had. 

'Thanks, Ron,' Hermione said, appeased, though that gleam was still in her eyes. 'You better send that letter now, Harry.'

'Yes, yes,' Harry said, getting to his feet. 'I'm sure I can go to the Owlery in one piece,' he added when it looked as if they were about to follow him. 

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. 'So be it,' she muttered. 'Don't use Hedwig, he's too distinctive.' 

'I've sent letters to Sirius _ before, _ Hermione, _ Merlin _,' Harry said, not waiting for a response from either of them before striding away. 

Hermione and Ron exchanged a look of bemused affection behind his back.

* * *

Draco was taking a walk on the Quidditch grounds when he caught sight of the owl heading his way. With the other schools arriving yesterday, everyone from the fourth year and up had gotten a break on the following day to help the foreign students to 'assimilate better to their environment.' 

Which Draco thought was a load of shit, but still. The break was nice. 

But as a result, the land beside the lake which was usually deserted due to the cold climate and mostly occupied by Hogwarts students and was rarely overcrowded since no-one felt inclined to go outside at this weather - was held hostage by the Beauxbatons students, who seemed _ delighted _by the cold. 

Draco growled to himself, his glare only worsening as he felt a letter land on his face, the owl only pausing to hoot at him before flying back to the Owlery. He opened the crumpled piece of parchment that looked as if it was written in a hurry, curious despite himself as to its contents. 

_ Malfoy, _

_ Meet me in the kitchens in ten minutes. _

Draco stared at the letter, the unfortunately distinctive handwriting of Potter's making him want to kick something. Draco still didn't know what had possessed him to accept Potter's help. His father would have a lot to say about _ that, _at least. 

(Yet. 

'Malfoys bow for no-one, my Dragon,' Lucius had said when Draco was five, from what felt like a lifetime ago, when all he felt was love and reverence for his father. 

But. 

Could he really call his father a hypocrite if he was about to become one himself?)

The thing was, Draco, logically, knew that the Dark Lord's ideology was wrong. Blaise, more than anyone else, had made him open his eyes to the fact that the world wasn't as black and white, as pure-bloods vs. mud-muggle-borns, that his family had made it seem. 

Rebellion, no matter how covert, was still one step towards _ change - _change from the comfortable life he was living, where he had become sickeningly complacent to the fact that he was a mini-Death Eater in the making with no way out. 

_ Potter's giving you a way out, _Blaise had said. And what would it say about Draco if he didn't take it with open arms? 

He crumpled the piece of paper in his hands, contemplating, for the first time, of throwing it away and not looking back. 

He put it in his pocket instead. He could feel the, all too clearly, what would happen if he didn't, however grudgingly, accept Potter's help - the endless hour of fearing for his life, tortured for the sadistic pleasures of a madman who was well past his prime. 

Draco, walking back to Hogwarts, couldn't help wondering whether he'd made a mistake - whether the Dark Lord would win, after all, throwing his family in harm's way after being labeled as a traitor. 

His legs seemed determined to continue heading in the direction of the kitchens, however.

* * *

Potter and his friends were already outside the kitchens when he went, all of whom appeared to be arguing about something. They immediately fell silent once they caught sight of him, lapsing into an awkward silence that would have been amusing in any other situation. 

'Right,' Granger said briskly, tickling the peach to open the trapdoor to the kitchens. 'We're still waiting for Pansy and Blaise, so if you could take a seat, Draco?'

'You invited _ Parkinson? _' Draco said, unable to keep the astonishment from his voice as he sat down.

Potter shot him an annoyed look. 'Is that a problem, Malfoy?' he asked cooly, apparently waiting for Draco to make a snarky retort. 

In fact, he opened his mouth to make exactly that, when the trapdoor opened to yield three figures entering one by one. 

By the look on the Golden Trio's faces, _ they _weren't aware that Perera would be in their midst, either. 

Blaise smiled slightly at Draco as he sat down, and Draco inclined his head in return. Both Parkinson and Perera studiously ignored them, too wrapped up in their staring contest between Granger to pay any attention to him. 

For someone who had pretended to be in love with Draco for three years, _ that _was saying a lot. Draco tried to ignore the stab of hurt he felt at that. 

Weasley finally broke their awkward silence by clearing his throat. 'Uh.' 

How eloquent. 

Granger laughed fondly at him. 'As Ron was trying to say,' she said. 'You might be wondering why we called you here. Well except for...'

'Sathya Perera,' Perera volunteered. 'But you can call me Sathya, I don't like the last names bullshit you guys have going on, to be honest.'

Potter perked up from his seat. 'You're South Asian?' 

'I'm Sri Lankan,' Perera said, smiling slightly at him. 'You're Indian, right, Harry?'

'Half-Indian, but yes,' Potter said. 'You have no _ idea _how many people ignore that I'm Indian.'

'I think I have a fair idea-'

'As I was _saying... _' Granger said. 'Harry agreed to help both Pansy and Draco and - we need to figure out a plan that doesn't rely on dumb luck.'

'But dumb luck's helped us a lot in the past, Mione,' Weasley said, looking longingly at the food that was laid on the other tables. 'Though that still doesn't explain why Per-Sathya's here, Pansy.'

They were all on the first-name basis, except for him, then. How lovely. 

Parkinson shrugged. 'You interrupted our date,' she said. 'I don't mind her knowing anything, I know I can trust her.' She smiled over at Sathya in an uncharacteristic display of softness. Or maybe it _was _characteristic of her. Draco wouldn't know. 

He valiantly tried to ignore his increasingly bitter thoughts and focus on what Granger was saying. 

'That's fine with us,' Granger, though from the looks of Potter and Weasley, they weren't as confident as her. Draco wondered absently where their Gryffindor bravado had disappeared. 'But first, I want you to sign this piece of parchment, just as a precaution.' She rummaged inside her bag and unearthed an obviously enchanted piece of parchment; most people couldn't recognize that it was a contract, but Draco saw the tell-tale gleam on its surface that normal parchments didn't contain. 

Blaise, who had been quiet for most of the exchange and was appearing to observe the house-elves who were hard at work, spoke up for the first time. 'You managed to enchant this in a _ day, _Granger? That's amazing.'

'Well - it wasn't a day, actually. More like thirty minutes because Harry only told us what he did today...' she appeared flustered. 'It only has a basic secrecy charm and I was planning to modify it later -'

'It's still amazing,' Blaise said, not waiting for the others to react before signing his name on the parchment. Parkinson and Perera followed, and everyone's gaze fell on Draco, who still hadn't moved from his seat. 

'Draco...'

'Fine, I'll sign it,' Draco muttered, snatching the quill roughly from Perera and signing with a flourish. He could feel his heart hammering in his throat. Fuck covert rebellion, then. 

He smiled grimly and raised his eyes to come face to face with Blaise. He had a proud gleam in his eyes, and Draco couldn't help but revel in it, knowing that one of his only friends, who knew how hard it was for him to do _anything_** \- **was proud of him for taking action. 

'Right,' Hermione breathed. 'First, we need to figure out a better place for us to meet, there's no way we won't run into anyone in the kitchen - '

'Dobby's sorry for interrupting, Miss, but I have a place for that,' an all too familiar voice Draco hasn't heard in two years, called out. 

'_ Dobby? _' Potter and Draco uttered, both in various stages of bafflement. Draco had stopped asking where Dobby was after his father lapsed into an intense fit of muttering about Potters and their audacity, but Draco had actually missed the quirky house elf that was willing to listen to anything he said about Potter and Hogwarts. 

He looked happier than Draco had ever seen him; he was wearing what appeared to be a garishly knit oversized sweater with the Hogwarts crest on it and one maroon and one yellow sock. 

'Master Draco! Dobby has missed you, even though he doesn't miss Master Lucius much - ' Dobby's ears quivered and he raised a hand to involuntarily slap himself before resisting with a conscious effort. Looking at him, Draco wondered whether the house-elves, the existence of which he had taken for granted was to help wixen - deserved something more than the servile position they'd been reduced to all their lives.

'I'm sure you don't,' he felt a smile light up his face. 'How are you doing, Dobby?' He could feel the startled glances that Potter and Weasley exchanged behind his back and the smug look that Blaise sported. 

Draco Malfoy had _changed _from the entitled bastard he had been an year - hell, three months, ago. He just wished it was easier to believe. For others and himself. 

'Dobby has been great, Master Draco,' As Dobby talked, his ears drooped up and down. 'Dumbleydore's been giving me two gallons a month because I asked for payment - '

'That's great, Dobby!' Granger exclaimed. 'Haven't there been any other house-elves who want to do the same thing?'

Dobby's ears, which had been perked up before, started to droop for the first time. 'The other house-elves don't approve of Dobby's notions,' he whispered. 'They think house-elves should be there to help wixen, that's all.'

'I'm sorry, Dobby.'

'But Dobby is fine! He has Winky for company, and is near Master Draco and Harry so he can make sure they are safe,' he continued. Draco felt a sudden warmth rise up in his chest and barely resisted grinning like a loon. 'And Dobby couldn't help but overhear at the Great Harry Potter was helping Master Draco and he wants to help.'

'What is it, Dobby?' Potter asked, exchanging an excited glance with Draco. 

'We house-elves call it the Come-and-Go Room,' Dobby said. 'But most who know call it the Room of Requirement. It's on the seventh floor, and the only way you can access it is by walking around it three times, thinking really hard about what you want.'

'Hence the Room of _ Requirement, _' Perera muttered. 

Draco was just about to snap that they could figure that out by themselves, _ thank you, _ when Granger, once again, brought the attention up to herself. 'So we know where to meet next!' she smiled excitedly. 'Thank you so _ much, _Dobby.'

'Dobby's happy to help Draco Malfoy and his friends.' Dobby replied, before Disapperating with a harsh _crack. _

'Well, that was interesting,' Weasley commented. 

'We still need to come up with a plan, though,' Perera pointed out. 'You guys are _ really _getting sidetracked.' 

They all turned around to glare at her, even Parkinson. 'What? It's true.'

'Babe...' Parkinson said before exhaling loudly. 'I want a safe place for my sister and her husband to stay, and possibly me too if my parents want to force me to join the Death Eaters.'

'I already told you that Grimmauld Place was yours for the taking - '

'And I appreciate that, Potter,' she smiled. 'I just don't understand why I'm here.'

Granger clapped her hands together. 'The thing is,' she began. 'All of us here want the same thing, right? All of us want to get rid of You-Voldemort, and it's about time we worked together.'

Draco and Parkinson flinched at the sound of _his _name. Yet, he couldn't help but admit that it was a little freeing to hear someone else say it, to know that he didn't hold the same power over everyone that Draco was afraid held him on a chokehold. 

'We know that Voldemort's is living in the Malfoy Manor, and is planning to return at the end of June - we just need to figure out _how. _And put a stop to it, if we can.'

This was a suicide mission. They consisted of five fourteen-year-olds and one fifteen-year-old - in short, a recipe for disaster. But Potter, Weasley, and Granger had always managed to make it out alive after their hare-brained schemes. And the chance to join them in it, everything that twelve-year-old Draco would have imagined, and well. Draco would be lying if he wasn't intrigued. 

'I'm in,' he said, surprised to hear it echoed by all the other Slytherins around him. And looking around their determined faces, for once, Draco felt as if things would be just fine. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry for taking so long to update - school's been keeping me really busy and i have to study ahaha  
writing this chapter was a delight and draco's pov is honestly the best thing to write!  
please leave a comment or kudos if you enjoyed this! it keeps me writing to be honest  
follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/ghcstofmalfoy) or [tumblr](https://a-sentimental-man.tumblr.com)!


	11. Chapter 10

The next few days were filled with disorder as Harry and his friends - which extended up to Draco, surprisingly - tried to get their thoughts together on what to do next, especially with his surprising revelation that Moody wasn't exactly who he appeared to be. 

_ 'Also… Potter,' Malfoy hesitated, biting his lip and looking as if he would prefer to be anywhere but here. Everyone, who had been paying attention to Sathya's animated narration about a vacation that she had taken to Sri Lanka and her discovery of a Lethifold - almost in unison, turned their heads towards Malfoy.  _

_ 'It's Harry,' Harry offered, surprising even himself with how genuine he sounded.  _

_ 'Draco, then,' Ma-Draco said, flushing under the heavy glances of the three Slytherins and three Gryffindors. 'My mother sent me a letter and… well.' _

_ 'What?' Blaise was looking at him keenly; he alone knew out of all of them how shaken Draco had been after receiving his mother's letter, almost with no inclination to go to Moody's classes.  _

_ 'It says that Moody's not who he appears to be,' Draco said, and Harry felt his eyes widen, opening his mouth to protest that  _ no, Moody was an  _ Auror,  _ of course, he wouldn't be an imposter, and Dumbledore hired him too - 

_ But, a little voice inside his head protested. When had any of his Defense teachers - except for Lupin - ever been in any way competent?  _

_ Though Harry knew he was being unfair to Dumbledore, he couldn't help but think that maybe,  _ maybe,  _ Moody was there  _ because  _ he was a Death Eater, so Dumbledore could keep an eye on him.  _

_ He could see the emotions flit across Ron's face, going from surprise to anger to indignation before finally settling into one of understanding, realizing what Harry himself had.  _

_ 'That… makes a lot of sense,' Sathya said, shrewdly glancing between everyone around her, taking Pansy's arm and enclosing it with her own as if it was second nature to her. Harry felt a pang of envy at their relationship, the fact that both could depend on each other for support in the best possible way. 'The way that he's been treating Draco and even Pansy… anyone would think it was for their parents being Death Eaters, but when you look closely at it, you can't help but notice that he's been giving shit to everyone whose parents got  _ out  _ of Azkaban through their own means.'  _

_ Draco flinched, apparently not having thought that far. Harry, himself, felt an impending sense of doom as he realized that this game had become something  _ more,  _ that Voldemort was targeting him specifically, that it was taking place in Hogwarts, somewhere where he had always considered his home.  _

'Harry? You with me?' Harry was jerked out of his thoughts with those words, coming face to face with a grinning Andrei. Harry felt his face heat up with embarrassment as he realized he had missed most of what Andrei had said, more preoccupied with his thoughts about what to do than anything else. 

'I'm fine… just a little distracted, that's all,' Harry replied, ignoring Ron's sniggers from beside him on the Gryffindor table. They were waiting for Dumbledore to announce who the champions for their respective schools were, the subtle tension in the Great Hall as they waited for their champions to be announced almost stifling. Harry, though he couldn't articulate it, had felt a sense of unease from the minute he had woken up today; he couldn't help but think that something was going to happen to  _ him,  _ was going to change irreversibly from the very moment he had realized the champions were getting chosen today. 

When Harry had told Ron and Hermione about his misgivings, he had expected to be laughed at, or worse, to be told to calm down and not make everything about him. He was pleasantly surprised when Ron looked at him and said, 'With the way things have been going lately, I don't blame you at  _ all,  _ honestly,' and Hermione had looked at him with something thoughtful in her eyes. 

Now, Andrei was grinning at him and Harry desperately wrenched himself out of his gloomy thoughts. 'The Boy-Who-Lived, too cool to pay any attention to me, I see,' Andrei said teasingly. 

'Of course not!' Harry said, seeing the teasing glint in Andrei's eyes all too late. Ron was collapsing in laughter, nearly choking on his food, while Hermione, as usual, had her head buried in a book. Viktor was somewhere on the edge of the Gryffindor table and conversing with a couple of starstruck Gryffindors, though he kept casting longing looks in Hermione's direction every once in a while. Harry was almost afraid to ask what was going on. 

Before Harry could salvage himself by saying anything charming, or  _ anything at all -  _ the Headmaster stood up from his seat and clapped his hands. Immediately, the entire Great Hall hushed as Argus Filtch brought in the casket that was about to decide who the champions were. 

Harry resisted the urge to bite his nails. 

'It is now  _ time, _ ' Dumbledore said. He didn't have to say what time it was; everyone  _ knew.  _ Yet: '...To announce the Triwizard champions! When champions are selected, they are expected to go through this door,' at that, he gestured to a door that Harry would have sworn wasn't there before. 'And await further instructions from Mr. Crouch.'

Crouch cleared his throat from where he was sitting, and the Hall burst into polite, scattered applause, too preoccupied with glancing at the casket which was emitting blue smoke. 

Dumbledore smiled magnanimously, winking at the entirety of the student population as a smoking piece of parchment flew into his hands. 'Without further ado, the champion for Durmstrang in… Viktor Krum!' 

'Wasn't much of a surprise, now, is it?' Andrei muttered, his fondness for Viktor evident in his clapping and the excitement for his friend visible despite his snarky words. Harry hummed his agreement, clapping along with his friends. Harry still felt the tell-tale trepidation, the feeling that something was about to happen, something that concerned him and his safety in particular. 

'The Champion for Beauxbatons… Fleur Delacour!' Harry clapped politely as the tall, pretty girl that he had seen Ron gape over rising and proceeding through the door, to cheers from her schoolmates. 

Harry resisted the urge to stifle a laugh as he saw that Blaise, unlike the rest around him, was pointedly  _ not  _ clapping, preferring to glare at her instead. Harry still didn't know how Ron and Blaise hadn't begun dating yet - they obviously liked each other, and yet neither made a move to make it something more. 

'And, last but not least, the Champion for Hogwarts is… Cedric Diggory!'

The Hufflepuff table  _ exploded  _ in cheers. Harry laughed as the Gryffindor table looked disappointed for a moment to see a  _ Hufflepuff  _ champion, though he could see the resigned,  _ at least it isn't a Slytherin,  _ written on their faces. Harry felt the tension edging off his shoulders as he realized that he wasn't going to be a champion after all - that his gut feeling was thankfully wrong for once. 

The relief was short-lived. 

Harry felt the breath leave his chest as he saw an all too familiar slip of parchment coated in blue flame land on Dumbledore's grasp, Dumbledore's shocked face echoing Harry's own. 

'Harry Potter.'

He felt himself almost mechanically move forward, trying valiantly to ignore the betrayed eyes of Andrei that followed him on his wake. 

Harry sighed as he  _ finally  _ escaped from the clutches of the Gryffindors in the Common Room, though Ron was nowhere to be seen. Hermione, taking one look at his shell-shocked figure entering through the trapdoor, had whispered,  _ we can talk tomorrow, Harry,  _ and had gone to bed. 

'How is it,' Ron said, as soon as he entered. 'That you manage to be a part of  _ everything? _ '

Harry sank into his bed, not knowing how to reply to this enraged Ron. The last time Harry had seen him this angry was during when he had thought Scrabbers had been killed by Crookshanks, and Harry had been glad at not being the recipient of his anger. This time, Ron seemed truly  _ livid  _ in a way he had never been before, and Harry didn't know what to do in the face of it, or what had provoked it. 

'Ron...'

'How did you fool the Goblet of Fire, then?' Ron asked, and  _ oh.  _ Harry tried to ignore the stab of hurt he felt at Ron automatically assuming that he was the one who had putten his name in, like countless other people, like the whole  _ school.  _

' **I didn't put my name in!** ' Harry said, frustration evident in his voice. 

'Who, exactly, is it then?' Ron said sarcastically. 'I know you've been mooning about  _ Andrei,  _ any way to make him look at you...'

Harry stopped, then. He  _ had  _ been thinking about that, but he hadn't seriously considered it - it was more like a passing fancy that he knew was never going to happen, but which had unfortunately happened anyway. He had never wanted to actually enter into the tournament, and he wished Ron would believe him. 

'You know what Draco told us - '

'Why are you bringing him into this - '

'About  _ Moody, _ ' Harry stressed, a last-ditch effort to make Ron  _ listen.  _ 'And how he's probably a Death Eater.'

'You expect me to believe that believe he put your name in?'

'What else do you  _ think? _ ' Harry said, exasperated. 'I'm not  **Hermione, ** I can't do complex spellwork for shit, and what do you think, that I fooled a thousand-year-old magical artifact?'

Ron was silent. Harry waited, hoping that he would listen to reason for once. It wasn't always the course of action that Ron took - but. ' _ Fuck, _ ' Ron said, apparently processing Harry's words. Then: 'Careful there, Harry, methinks you protest too much.'

Ron had a smile on his face, the tension gone from his face, and Harry smiled back, hoping his relief wasn't too evident. 

'I think someone's trying to do you in, Harry,' Ron said, the teasing on his voice bellied by the somber look in his eyes. 

'Well,  _ obviously, _ ' Harry exhaled. 'Not-Moody was pretty weird bout everything - he kept talking about how someone had to be  _ 'great wizard'  _ to hoodwink an artifact like that, almost like he was patting himself on the back...'

Ron rolled his eyes. 'Of course, he was, the fucking wanker.' Harry knew that Ron was remembering the same thing he himself was; when Moody had hexed Pansy when she was adjusting Hermione's bag for her, a habit that had grown between them, something neither of them pretended to understand. When Harry and Ron had vehemently protested Moody's treatment of her, Moody had reluctantly receded, though it had been up to them to take her to Madam Pomfrey to fix her nails which had grown into talons -  _ much like yourself, Moody had said with a grin in Ron, Harry and Hermione's direction -  _ evidently, a painful transformation if Pansy's wincing had been anything to go by. 

She had had to stay in the hospital wing for the whole day, and Not-Moody had merely gotten a reprimand from McGonagall over it. 

All of them - even Draco - had born a bigger grudge and mistrust towards him ever since. 

'You don't think we can get him sacked, do you?' Ron said hopefully. 

'I don't think so,' Harry scowled. 'If using the Unforgivables and hexing students can't get him sacked, I don't think  _ anything else _ ever can.' 

'And Dumbledore hired him,' Ron said, doubt in his voice that Harry, though he felt guilty every time he felt it, couldn't help but feel, too. 

'I'm sure he didn't know that Moody was a Death Eater...' Harry said, feeling an innate need to defend the Headmaster even though he wasn't sure Dumbledore deserved it. Harry knew Sirius  _ had  _ talked to Dumbledore, and yet, Dumbledore had done nothing except to shoot a genial smile Harry's way every time Harry caught his eye. 

Like so many adults had treated Harry before coming to Hogwarts and thinking that people were going to  _ listen  _ to him, for once. 

He hated that small, shriveled up feeling, the soft pump of his mind and heart in unison, going he-doesn't-care-about-you-no-one-does every time a condescending smile was thrown at his face, nothing else. 

He had had enough of it from pre-school teachers who smiled absently at him every time he came up asking for help, too enamored with the Dursleys' words to care. 

Ron opened his mouth, no doubt to make a comment about Dumbledore's apparent  _ trustworthiness  _ when the creak of the door opening made both of them pause. They both relaxed as they saw it was Neville and dropped the topic in unison, though Ron's glance alerted Harry that they weren't done with it, not by a long shot.

'You know Harry,' Neville said softly, once they had all gotten under the covers and Harry tried to desperately ignore the sound of the feast that was going on downstairs, Ron's snoring alerting Harry that he, at least, didn't have any qualms about sleeping. 'I don't believe you entered your name, either.'

'Thanks, Neville,' Harry smiled widely at him, though he knew Neville couldn't see him through the darkness. It was with a different - yet not unwelcoming - warmth on his chest that he drifted to sleep, hoping, against all hope, that the other schools - and most importantly,  _ Andrei  _ \- hadn't believed that he had really entered his name in the Goblet of Fire. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ugh!! i wrote this in about 1 and half hours spread throughout 3 days, and yay productivity!! as you can see, i probably won't be able to have sporadic updates because real life is a _bitch_ but the action really starts from this chapter, and a lot of non-canon things are happening afterward, so you guys can look forward to that! and yes, i did, in fact, update the chapter count again sjsjsj  
also, i'm considering writing a spinoff about the relationship between pansy and sathya, would anyone be interested in reading it? it'll be full of gay fluff because i love them both  
what did u think of this chapter? comments and kudos motivate me to keep writing, so please don't hesitate to drop a few comments <3  
follow me on [tumblr!](https://a-sentimental-man.tumblr.com)


	12. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow it's been a month and half, yes I know lmao  
but i almost lost all inspiration for this fanfic because i was like... fuck i am a Bad Writer and no-one cares if i post or not anyway and i overuse words entirely too much...
> 
> but yeah!! im back! with a bunch of edits on the previous chapters - you don't need to re-read it if you don't want to because i mostly just changed the writing style to make it more readable and didn't change the plot. 
> 
> i don't think I'll be able to update as consistently as usual because i got enrolled into uni, but I'll try to update biweekly, at least.

_ Harry,  _

_ Meet me at The Three Broomsticks at around 11 this Saturday. _

_ Sirius.  _

Harry clutched the note in his hand, the only relief in what had turned out to be a  _ terrible  _ week. Along with the fact that half the school wasn't talking to him and vocally expressing their support to Cedric - which Harry knew he deserved way more than  _ him -  _ none of the friends he'd made in Durmstrang were talking to him. Which would have been easier to bear if Andrei hadn't looked at him with hatred in his eyes every day following the reveal of the champions. 

Well. Hatred was going a tad bit too far, but still. 

'You look a  _ bit  _ cheerful now,' Hermione commented, sliding down beside him. Harry smiled at her, relieved that Hermione and Ron, at least, hadn't treated him any differently with the reveal of him as a champion. Nor had any of the other Slytherins, but apart from Blaise and occasionally Pansy, he found it difficult to care about what they actually thought of him, though he knew that was going to change if their meetings actually continued. 

He could feel the piercing glance of Andrei across from the Slytherin table, along with Draco's apologetic glance that followed. 

Draco had been a surprisingly good friend these days. Harry should have felt guilty about doubting him, but the sting of his bullying still hadn't faded. Out of all the Slytherins, Harry could safely say that Draco was the most  _ interesting -  _ he had always been a menace from first to third year, but now that Harry was seeing his real personality, he found it difficult to reconcile the same boy he had seen on first year with this new one. 

'Padfoot sent me a message,' he said, grinning. He quickly passed the note over to Hermione, who glanced over it, expression shifting from expectant to concerned.

'Before you say anything else,' Harry said, as Hermione opened her mouth, 'I'm pretty sure he knows what he's doing, all right? I doubt he'll just walk into an inn with a bunch of teenagers without  _ any  _ sort of disguise.'

Hermione frowned. 'I suppose you're right,' she conceded grudgingly. 

It was at that moment that Ron walked into the Great Hall and took a seat beside Hermione, a convenient Ron shaped space left for him by other Gryffindors. They  _ knew  _ Harry, Ron, and Hermione never did sit anywhere else. 

Then: 'Wait,  _ Harry's  _ right about something?'

* * *

'Potter, I swear to god, if I hear you complaining about Andrei not talking to you  _ one more time  _ it won't be the Tournament that takes you out. I'm a Slytherin. I know how to make it look like an accident.' Unsurprisingly, Pansy was the first one to remark on Harry's moaning. Harry  _ knew  _ it must be annoying, but - he felt justified, all the same. 

Harry  _ had  _ meant to enjoy Hogsmead, maybe go to Zonko's and the apothecary around the corner - but he lasted about three minutes before complaining about the stares he was getting from the entirety of Hogwarts except for the Gryffindors. 

' _ Pansy... _ ' Harry groaned. 'You're not  _ helping. _ ' Apparently Pansy's gallows humor was rubbing off on all of them; no-one even blinked at her Tournament joke and instead laughed teasingly at Harry. 

'Oh, sorry,' Blaise said. 'When has Pansy  _ ever  _ been helpful, Harry?'

Harry opened his mouth to tell him about how Pansy had approached him at the Hogwarts Express before her glare held him back. Knowing her, she had probably told Blaise a severely abridged version of the entire story. Not to mention Sathya. 

Then: 'I  _ swear, _ ' he fumed, 'It's so fucking  _ annoying,  _ do you think I  _ want  _ this to happen to me? And Andrei should have really known better-'

'He knew you for a grand total of a  _ week, _ ' Pansy said, in as placating of a tone as she was capable of. 'That's really not enough time to get to know someone's character.'

Harry spluttered. 'It's enough for - it's enough for  _ me. _ '

'And you're very special, we  _ get _ it,' Pansy dismissed. 

Blaise cut off their argument by sighing loudly. 'Once you guys are done bickering like eleven-year-olds, can we  _ please _ go somewhere else instead of standing here like statues?'

Harry and Pansy both glared. 'Fine,' they said in unison. Sathya, laughing, kissed Pansy on the cheek, making her blush in spite of herself. 

Ron, who had been unusually silent throughout their conversation, piped up with: 'Isn't it nearly eleven?' 

Blaise blinked, before unceremoniously rolling his sleeves up to look at his watch. 'It's 10.40,' he said, shortly, not looking at Ron's direction. Ron winced. Harry heard Pansy muttering something to Blaise, something that sounded like 'you're one to talk about Potter's relationships when…' Harry didn't need to hear the rest. 

'We still have more time,' Harry said hastily, trying to diffuse the tension that was hanging thickly over them. Hermione, beside him, sighed, while Sathya laughed. 

Blaise strode away towards Zonko's - Harry didn't even know he was actually interested in what was in the shop or the fact that it was across them was just  _ convenient _ \- leaving them all behind in a huff. Ron shot a panicked look at all of them, apparently not knowing what to do. Harry did a series of gestures that he hoped meant 'go  _ after him,  _ dumbass,' which Ron, thankfully got. Shooting an apologetic look at Harry for not being able to meet Sirius with him, he followed. 

'If they don't get it together…' Pansy muttered. Harry was inclined to agree. Their mutual pining had gone from laughable to simply depressing - not that Harry could say anything since he was in the same boat, as well. 

(Though his situation was more him pining for someone who hated his guts more than _mutual_ _pining, _to be fair.) 

'Do you want to follow them...' Hermione hedged after a long pause, Harry belatedly realizing that they've been staring at Ron and Blaise's retreating backs for  _ much  _ too long, enough that they couldn't even see them among the throng of students any longer. 

All of whom were giving them odd looks. 

' _ Fuck no, _ ' Pansy said decisively, taking Sathya's hand, who seemed surprised at her vehemence. 'Knowing them, they are off doing something disgustingly cute and I'll rather do something disgustingly cute with  _ my  _ girlfriend. Weren't you going somewhere, anyway?' 

'Was that a hint?' Harry asked disinterestedly, too used to Pansy to really take any offense. 

Pansy rolled her eyes at him, 'Not so much a hint as a pointed comment.'

'They are the  _ same thing -  _ '

'Anyway,' Hermione said hastily, taking Harry's arm and preventing another argument from taking place. 'We have  _ got  _ to go, Harry.' With that, she bodily dragged him away amidst his protests, Pansy's mocking laughter following them. Well - Sathya wasn't laughing at him, at least. 

Three Broomsticks, when they went in, was as crowded as usual, with the usual hubbub of dozens of Hogwarts students as they all tried to talk over each other. Harry scanned the booths, surprised to find no-one gesturing for him to come to sit down with him - he figured Sirius would have come in disguise or something. Hermione, it seemed, was having the same problem, if her sweeping looks were any indication. 

Rosmerta, noticing their unsubtle once over, immediately hurried over to them. 'There are two gentlemen waiting for you two - though they said there might be three,' she said. 'I didn't want to let them have a private room - your other friend looked way too…  _ rogue  _ for this establishment, but Mr. Lupin and I go a long way.'

Hermione and Harry exchanged a surprised look. Rosmerta didn't notice their odd looks, instead, said, 'first door when you go up the staircase,' and hurried away to serve a couple of impatient third years their butterbeers. 

Harry had never even  _ noticed  _ the staircase that led up to the private rooms before, too excited at coming to Hogsmeade with Ron and Hermione to think about much else. And when Harry heard that Sirius had been the one to betray the Potters from McGonagall and Flitwick the last time he had gone to Hogsmeade, his inclination to explore more had unsurprisingly dwindled. 

As he walked up the staircase, he couldn't help but notice how the walls were all empty of portraits; it seemed as if Rosmerta took her privacy  _ very  _ seriously. Or that of her customers'.

'Harry, Hermione,' Lupin greeted them with a warm smile as they both entered, though it looked as if they were both breaking off from a serious conversation. He gestured for them to take a seat across them both, and as Harry opened his mouth to greet both of them, he took a good look at Sirius sitting next to Lupin and  _ stared.  _

It was evident that he was Polyjuiced; Sirius, normally about 6 feet tall, was now about 5'3 and looked none too happy about it. His face, too, looked nothing short of what Harry could describe as round and angular at the same time, entirely not matching with his body. He looked like a grown man that hadn't grown out of his teenage years. Looking at him, Harry couldn't blame Rosmerta for being wary of him. 

He heard a short giggle beside him, Hermione noticing the same thing he had done. That was enough to set him off too until they were both laughing until tears came out of their eyes. 

'Laugh if you want,' Sirius mumbled. 'But  _ you're  _ not the one who had to be glamoured like this.' 

'You're glamoured?' Harry asked, surprised. He had been so certain - 

'That's all got to do with Remus's skill, of course,' Sirius said, with a gleam in his eyes when looking at Lupin that Harry couldn't name. 'He's always been bloody good at charms.'

'Fascinating,' Hermione whispered. 'Professor Lupin-'

'Please call me Remus, the both of you,' Lupin-Remus said hastily, seeing Hermione about to go into a tirade that no-one could put a stop to. No-one that valued their own life anyway. 'And I think we have more matters to discuss than how I can put up a glamour charm, don't we?'

Hermione frowned but nodded her head, acknowledging his point. 

'I met Hagrid along the way,' Remus said abruptly. Harry opened his mouth to ask why that was important, when - 

'The First Task... it's going to be dragons, Harry.'

'Dun dun duh,' Sirius said, trying to diffuse the tension in the room. Remus shot him an irritated look in retaliation, though Harry, himself, mustered up a little laugh and felt better himself for it. 

'It's pretty curious - Mad-Eye was with him, and didn't even try to stop Hagrid from saying what the First Task was. It could be school pride, but - he's always been a stickler for the rules,' Remus mused, a frown threaded across his brow. 'Where other people would be at a disadvantage, anyway.'

'Speaking of Mad-Eye,' Harry hedged, looking at Hermione for some help. She was picking at a loose thread in her jumper and appeared to not notice, lost in a world of her own,  _ very  _ unlike the witch he knew. 'We think he's a Death Eater.'

At that, Sirius laughed a loud belly laugh that made Harry grin in spite of himself. It was  _ nice  _ to see Sirius laughing like that, all carefree joy. He absently wondered if this was how he used to laugh all the time before Azkaban had laid claim to him and made him hollow around the edges. Sirius only stopped laughing when he realized no-one was laughing along with him, though Remus's face held a fond smile that had more to do with Sirius's laughter than anything else. 'Oh… you were being serious.'

'Yeah…' Harry said, glancing at Hermione once again. 

She appeared to be out of her musings for now, and gave him a look that said,  _ really Harry?  _ before saying, 'Draco had some… interesting things to tell us.' 

'So it's  _ Draco  _ now, is it?' Sirius asked, causing Harry's cheeks growing darker with no volition of his own, though he had no idea  _ why.  _

'Draco said that Narcissa warned him to not worry about Moody - apparently, he was working with You-Voldemort, somehow.' 

'And since Moody isn't the kind of person to  _ willingly  _ work with Voldemort...' Remus continued thoughtfully. 

Sirius sat up in his chair. 'The Marauder's Map,' he said abruptly.

'What about it?' Harry asked, taken aback. 

'It literally shows the true name of  _ everyone -  _ even if they are Polyjuiced. Helped charm it, myself,' he said excitedly, his face eager. Harry and Hermione exchanged twin looks of surprise, causing Sirius to roll his eyes and say, 'I  _ do  _ have good ideas, you know.'

'Of  _ course,  _ you do,' Remus muttered. Harry couldn't help but glance at their interactions with fascination; their relationship was one of the most unique he'd seen, but there was an intimacy between them that he'd only seen between Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, of trust and assurance in each other. 

'Ha _ rry, _ ' Hermione nudged him on the shoulder, causing him to wince and look for the Marauder's Map in his bag with a muttered curse. He never went  _ anywhere  _ without that and the Invisibility Cloak; apart from making him feel safe, he felt closer to his father - and his godfather - after holding something tangible from them. 

Finally laying hold of it and making a sound of satisfaction, he whispered, 'I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good,' watching as the thin threads of coffee colored lines expanded to reveal the entirety of Hogwarts and Hogsmead. 

'He was with Hagrid when I last saw him,' Remus offered. Harry obligingly scanned the peace of parchment, frowning when he saw that Hagrid was seated at a booth right below them, with who clearly was  _ Barty Crouch.  _ Hermione, looking over his shoulder, gasped softly. 

'What is it?' Sirius asked impatiently. Remus looked more composed, but the excitement lingered around his eyes. 

'It says Barty Crouch, here,' Harry said in puzzlement. 'But that can't be it - we saw Moody  _ and  _ Crouch when they said who the Champions were.' 

He saw Sirius and Remus glance at each other from the corner of his eyes. 

'You don't think…' Remus began, before stopping. 

'I actually do, at this point,' Sirius smiled wirily. 'You see Remus… the Map never lies.' 

Remus rolled his eyes. 'You  _ would  _ say that.' 

Hermione cleared her throat. 'Care to explain what you two mean?' It was the same time she used at Harry and Ron when they were being particularly obnoxious. 

Both of them startled, as if noticing Harry and Hermione for the first time. Sirius cleared his throat. 'You see… well. Crouch had a son. Never treated him like he was worth anything - you know how it  _ is  _ with pure-blood families. I always felt sorry for the kid whenever I looked at him - he was the same age as my brother, too,' Harry glanced sharply at Sirius at that; this was the first time he had heard Sirius refer to his brother with open affection, something wistful in his tone. Sirius appeared to not notice, too lost in his memories to pay much attention to Harry. 

'He became a Death Eater, Harry,' so much sadness, pain, grief in one voice. Harry saw Remus reach out a hand and enterwine both their fingers, distinctively feeling as if Sirius wasn't talking  _ only  _ about Crouch anymore. 'And Crouch Sr - he just threw his son into Azkaban. He was in a cell opposite to mine - I can still hear him screaming for his mother, father or  _ anyone  _ to come help-' and here, his voice cracked. He breathed in and out, shakily, Remus rubbing soothing circles along his back. 

'What happened to him?' 

'He stopped screaming,' Sirius said flatly, finally. 

'Then… it can't be him, right?' Harry asked, not even realizing he was chewing on his fingernails until Hermione swiped his hands away. 

'Not logically, but… we  _ are  _ looking at the only convict that escaped from Azkaban,' Hermione said thoughtfully. 'It's pretty likely that other people escaped in other ways, too.' 

'Huh,' Harry mused. 'So Draco _ was  _ right. I was wondering.' 

'What's the deal with you guys, anyway?' Sirius demanded, trying for his usual cheerful tone and failing by a mile. They all studiously ignored  _ that _ . 'First it was all - Malfoy's a git but I have a hero complex and want to help him, but now you've adopted a bunch of strays. Speaking of - where's Ron, anyway?' 

Hermione smothered a laugh. Harry just sighed, knowing Hermione wasn't going to help him with this one. 'If this is about your house-' Harry began. 

'Oh fuck  _ that,'  _ Sirius said. 'I don't give a damn about it and if you're using it to harbour people who aren't blood purists,  _ please do,  _ my mother would have a coronary… I just want to know,  _ how? _ ' 

'Harry  _ did  _ adopt some strays,' Hermione said, smiling involuntarily. Harry made an indignant noise at the back of his throat. 'I mean - even  _ we  _ don't realize how it happened. It's just his saving people thing, honestly.' 

'And as for Ron… he has a few… well… relationship… problems,' Harry hedged. 

Sirius guffawed. 'Well that's as good a reason as any,' he said, leaning back into Remus's body. 'What about you, Harry, any relationship… problems… of your own?' he mimicked. 

Harry resisted the urge to spontaneously combust. 'Nope, nope, not at all, nope,' he said in a rush. 

'Convincing,' Remus raised an eyebrow at him. 

' _ Yes  _ Harry,' Hermione said, a shit-eating grin on her face. 'Tell them about  _ Andrei.'  _

'Who's Andrei?' Sirius asked delightedly. 

'He's just this guy from Durmstrang,' Harry muttered. 'He's not talking to me now, anyway.' 

'Oh yes,' Sirius nodded. 'The classic 'you asked him out and he said no' type of deal - oh I forgot who I was talking to. Do go on.' 

'He thinks I entered my name on the goblet of fire.' 

There was a beat of silence, then: 'Harry, I can't even  _ tease  _ you about that...' 

'With the amount of times Harry's complained about it, well… we really,  _ really  _ can.' 

'Hermione…' Sirius said solemnly, and Harry was prepared to think that his suffering was going to end, for a moment. 'Please. You simply can _ not  _ say something like that without giving me all the details.' 

'Oi!' 

Just like that, the tenseness of the room alleviated at the expense of Harry - though Harry couldn't find it in himself to be annoyed. Not when he saw the gentle smiles and loud guffaws that Remus and Sirius occasionally expelled as if they haven't done in  _ years.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments always make me want to keep writing!! u have no idea how much
> 
> how's everyone holding up in quarantine? i, myself, started sobbing when my grandpa made a joke about curfew being extended, so safe to say... i am _not_ great.


	13. Chapter 12

'_ Fuck, _' Harry said fervently to himself, heedless of the Slytherins' confused looks and Hermione and Ron's sympathetic ones, Hermione uncharacteristically not even commenting on his language.

They were at the Room of Requirement, in a room that seemed to resemble both the Slytherin and Gryffindor common rooms at the same time - comfortable, black sofas that you could sink yourself into and never want to come back up, a log fire crackling merrily away on the corner, and the feeling of comfort that Harry only got from the Gryffindor common room. Though the Slytherins would say otherwise, probably. 

Harry idly wondered whether they should include a couple of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws into their 'secret underground operation' as Ron had affectionately dubbed it - just to get a wider variety of decorations that weren't in green, silver and gold. His shoulders shook with laughter at _ that - _he knew it wasn't that funny, but he could take humor in any way that he could. 

Especially since the first task was _ dragons. _

'Okay, that's it,' Blaise said abruptly from where he was seated next to Ron, who looked red-faced at the proximity. 'Care to explain what's going on, Potter? You've been twitchy as fuck ever since we left you at Hogsmeade.' 

It had been a few days since the Hogsmeade weekend, and despite even Hermione's help, Harry _ still _ hadn't been able to find a way to battle a dragon or whatever that they were about to do. Hermione didn't think he was _ actually _going to battle a dragon, but Ron and Harry weren't especially optimistic, considering their track record at Hogwarts so far. 

'It's none of your business,' Harry muttered. They - Ron, Hermione, and Harry - had briefly explained what had happened at Hogsmeade to them; that Crouch was most definitely a Death Eater, but nothing else. 

'On the contrary, I _ really _ think it is,' Sathya piped up, her face illuminated by the light of the fire, serious and worried. Harry belatedly realized that it was worry for _ him. _ 'If we're going to do this - this whole vigilante thing we have going on - we're going to do it properly. And you have to _ trust us _for that.'

Harry raised an eyebrow. 'Vigilante thing?'

Sathya shrugged. 'Seemed pretty appropriate. The only thing we're missing is a cape - we could dress up as Batman or something.' Turning to Pansy, she said: 'You would make an _ excellent _Kate Kane.'

'Of _ course, _ I would,' Pansy scoffed as if there was no debate about the conversation. Harry, who rapidly felt as if he was losing the thread of the conversation - and how did _ Pansy _ know about Muggle comic books anyway? - opened his mouth to say something, when Pansy, with a decisive air, said: 'Potter, please. Talk to us.' It was said with such contempt that Harry felt certain that the words 'you absolute _ dumbass, _' would have been attached next to them if Pansy didn't feel as if she was above swearing, sometimes. 

Harry smiled, a little. 

'Yes, Potter,' Draco's voice startled them all; he had been sitting on a chair next to the fireplace the whole time, apparently lost in his thoughts. Harry had resisted the urge to comment on it more than once, though he really didn't know why he _ noticed _ Malfoy so much, even when he wasn't even _ doing _ anything. _ 'Do _enlighten us.'

'You know what I think, Harry,' Ron said unexpectedly, angling his body in Harry's direction to make his point clear. Unfortunately - or fortunately, Harry didn't know - Harry was situated on a couch diagonally from Ron, causing him to lose his balance and land on an undignified heap on Blaise's lap. Blaise, though shocked, looked a little pleased as well, which Harry couldn't help but think was a little sweet of him. 

Before they all started snickering, that was. 

Ron's shocked, surprised, and then embarrassed face was something they were all going to remember for a long time, Harry was sure. 

'Oi,' Ron protested. 'It's _ not funny! _'

'On the contrary, Ron,' Blaise said, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes as Ron slowly disentangled himself from Blaise, blushing so much that Harry wouldn't be surprised if his face caught on fire at one point. Just as he was about to edge away, Blaise's hand, lightning-fast, grasped Ron's, and Ron smiled as he took it. 

They were _ disgustingly _cute. 

'Moving away from Ron and Blaise being disgustingly cute,' Pansy could read minds, apparently. 'Care to tell us what's going on, Potter?' 

Harry threw a pleading look at Hermione, whose face clearly said, _ You're on your own for this one. _ Hermione, too, had wanted to tell them about what had happened at Hogsmeade; more for the information that Slytherins could provide them with than anything else, and the parchment that she had made them sign that Harry now felt _ very _sure was cursed in some way. 

Hermione would have made a _ very _good Slytherin; she was terrifying enough. 

'Fine,' Harry sighed. 'But it's a really long story.'

'I don't think any of us have anywhere else to be now, do we?' Draco asked, in a tone that clearly said he was tired of waiting. 

Harry took a deep breath and jumped. 'You know the convict who escaped Azkaban last year - well, of course, you know about him… he's innocent.'

'I don't think you're giving them _ any _context Harry.'

'That's what you two are here for now, isn't it?'

So, between Harry's tale and Ron and Hermione's interjections, they managed to retell what had happened last year as best as they could, ending with how Sirius had asked them to visit him in the Three Broomsticks and told them about Crouch. 

'Well… that's a lot of information,' Pansy said, her tone bored, though Harry could see the anxiety lurking under her eyes. Sathya, apparently, noticed too; she took one of Pansy's hands and started rubbing soothing circles in the back of her palm, not making her calm, exactly, but better than she was before. 'When you told me I can use the Black Manor, I didn't think you actually _ knew _him.'

'What else did you think?' Harry asked, puzzled. 

'You mean you don't know?' Pansy said, her anxiety replaced with astonishment. 'In the Wizarding World, when a wixen gets convicted or passes away, all their possessions go to their immediate family - or unless you pass away and have a will, that is. And Sirius is your godfather. There's _ no _immediate family for him, other than that.'

'And as for you, Potter,' Draco said, expression thoughtful. 'Most families probably left you their possessions out of a misguided sense of gratefulness - you might want to look into that.' 

'But then… why didn't I get Sirius's possessions?'

Pansy bit her lip. 'The only reason you wouldn't get his possessions is because -'

'He didn't get a proper trial!' Draco exclaimed. He turned towards Harry. 'This is true, yeah?'

'Yeah...' Harry said, trying to understand why they sounded so excited, even Hermione's face edging into a grin. Then, suddenly, he _ understood. _'You don't mean - this might get him an actual trial?'

'It's a crime to deny someone a trial,' Hermione said, her eyes glinting. 'If they deny him that again - I'm sure Rita Skeeter would be _ very happy _to hear about that.'

'Wow,' Sathya said, looking taken aback at Hermione's vehemence. Pansy, in contrast, looked _ delighted. _'Didn't know you had it in you, Granger.'

Hermione rolled her eyes. 

But: 'Why didn't anyone ever tell me about this? Hermione?'

'I'm sorry, Harry,' Hermione replied. 'But I didn't actually know - it wasn't in any of the books I've read…' 

'It'll be pretty weird if you actually _ knew _ about it, to be fair. The Hogwarts library really doesn't have anything with substance, and I don't think you would have been interested in a pretty obscure law that you didn't even know existed or applied to anyone other than those born to a magical family, anyway. But the thing is...' Draco said, hesitantly. 'In cases like this, when the child is orphaned, and living with non-magical guardians when he's _ clearly _ from a magical family...'

'Just _ spit it out, _Draco,' Harry snapped. Draco sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

'Don't say I didn't warn you, though,' Draco muttered. 'You're supposed to have a meeting with the Headmaster of the school in your First year - he's supposed to explain it all.'

'When I said Dumbledore was incompetent...' Pansy started, halting her words as she saw the blood drain out of both Hermione and Harry's faces realizing someone they had both respected had let them down. Quite acutely, in fact. Ron didn't look much better. 

'Look,' Sathya started. 'I know you Gryffindors have some kind of… respect for Dumbledore, but the thing is Harry - Dumbledore only does things that would be beneficial in the long term, and he really only favours you Gryffindors, anyway. I don't think to give Sirius a proper trial was in _ any _of his priorities.'

'That's not - not possible,' Harry licked his lips that had suddenly become very dry. 'Dumbledore - he wouldn't _ do _that.' Hermione, beside him, was biting her lips, her face conflicted as she tried to be logical against her instinctive respect for authority figures - Dumbledore, especially. 

'I hate to say this, mate,' Ron said hesitantly. His fingers were closed tightly around Blaise's, his knuckles white. 'But I think Sathya's right. Putting you in your aunt's house would have seemed the best option for him.'

Harry buried his face in his hands. 'I just - it's so hard to _ understand, _ ' his voice cracked at the end. 'He always seemed to look out for us, but then he was just - what, testing my _ skills, _ seeing what I could do without literally _ any _support from my family?'

'If it makes you feel any better,' Sathya said gently, rising from her couch to make her way over to Harry, taking his hands away from his head and making eye contact with him: 'I think, in his own way, he loves you. He just doesn't know how to express it in any way that is actually helpful. Which is actually pretty crappy, I understand, but - '

'Thanks, Sathya,' Harry cut off her rambling, mustering up a small smile for her benefit. She smiled back, relieved that _ some _of her words had gotten through. 

'_ That's _the reason Sirius didn't tell Professor Dumbledore he was near Hogwarts,' Hermione finally said after a long silence. 'And why he went to Professor - Remus's. I thought Sirius had a problem with authority figures or something, I didn't think…' she bit her fingernails. Sathya reached over and gently pulled her hand away. 

Hermione smiled painfully at her. 

'Just… can we actually get Sirius freed this way?' Harry asked, hope making his throat almost clog with emotion. 

Pansy, for the first time, smiled a genuine smile at him: a smile that was too full of teeth, crooked and still the prettiest Harry's ever seen her. 'Not to sound cheesy, but if we all put our minds together, I'm _ sure _we can.' 

Draco cleared his throat. 'Wow. That _ was _cheesy,' he said. 'But I think… we're getting a bit… sidetracked?' 

Ron reached over to where Draco was sitting and patted him on the back. 'Dick,' he said, grinning. 

'There are _ dragons _for the First Task!' Draco protested, much too loudly.

Harry nodded, feeling the events of the day crashing on him. Telling his friends this had been nice - he knew he knew he _ trusted _them now, and that, more than anything else, was very reassuring. He knew most of the others felt the same way. 

The other events, though, were really enough to make him feel… numb, inside. 

_ Dumbledore. Sirius. _Harry swallowed thickly. Pansy, noticing his reaction, said, 'Don't worry, Potter, my parents are solicitors - they're more than capable of taking care of giving Sirius a trial.' 

'But - what about payment-' Harry started, quailing at the measured look she gave him. 

'Consider this my treat, Potter. We all owe you.' 

'No you don't, not really-' 

The Slytherins rolled their eyes, eerily in sync. Harry decided to just shut up. 

'Good,' Pansy said, reading his thoughts on his face. 'So… dragons?' 

'We still don't know what _ exactly _we're supposed to do with the dragons, right?' Ron said. 'Harry maybe has to fight it, or, actually, that's all I can think about at the moment.' 

'I don't think he's supposed to _ fight it,' _ Draco replied, his brow furrowed in thought. 'It might have an absolute chore even _ getting _ dragons from the sanctuary in Romania - if they get injured in any way, the Ministry will have to answer a _ lot _ of questions, not to mention how the relationship between the two countries is shaky enough as it is. _ ' _

'I _ told _you that you wouldn't have to battle a dragon!' Hermione triumphantly threw up her hands. 

'What exactly are we going to do to the dragons, then?' Harry asked, crossing his arms, filling away thoughts of Sirius for later. _ Much _ later. He was fine with Remus, for now. Harry just needed to remember that. 'Sing carols with them in their _ dragon language _?' Ron suppressed a snicker behind his hand.

'Congratulations, Potter,' Pansy said, sarcastically. 'That was _ almost _funny.' 

'I live to serve,' Harry replied, just as sarcastically. 

Draco, who didn't appear to have been listening to them, hesitantly said: 'Dragons are notoriously known for being protective over their own.' 

'You don't think…' Blaise trailed off. 

'Oh,' Hermione said, a look of realization on her face as she looked back and forth between them.

'I don't think Harry's going to handle much of your cryptic shit anymore,' Pansy drawled. 'So _ please tell us what's happening.' _

A pause, then: 'We think you have to get a dragon egg from its nest.' 

'That's a suicide mission!' Ron said, and Harry was quick to agree. Considering his conversations with Charlie - which still made him flush a little bit to think about - he knew that dragons were _ very _protective of everything they considered theirs. The Muggle myths about dragons and their treasure really weren't that far off. 

'We should probably… think positive?' Sathya suggested, though she too, sounded hesitant as to what _ was _positive. Then, perking up, she said: 'Harry knows what the First Task is! That's a start.' 

'Does that mean… the other champions don't know what the Task is?' Harry asked, a look of consideration on his face. That _ was _a huge advantage to Harry, but considering how the other champions had no clue as to what the Task was, that seemed a bit like… cheating, to him. 

Ron, seeing the all too familiar look on his face, groaned. ''Suppose there's no convincing you to leave it alone and _ not _tell the other Champions what the task is?' he asked, equal parts fond and exasperated.

Harry shook his head, the beginning of a smile forming on his face. 'None.' 

'That _ isn't _ a bad idea, actually,' Draco mused, causing Harry to look at him in astonishment at his very altruistic behaviour. It wasn't that Draco didn't want to help others, it was just that… when he had an advantage, he _ used _it. 

Harry wondered how he instinctively _ knew _that, so accurately. 

'Don't look at me like that,' Draco snapped. 'When the other champions hear it from _ you _ , they'll obviously feel indebted. And you can use _ that _to your advantage.' 

Pansy whistled. 'Didn't know you had such a tactical mind, Drakie.' 

Draco glowered at the nickname and opened his mouth. With _ that _ look on his face, Harry had a feeling that whatever he was about to retort with wasn't going to be pretty. 

'Anyway,' Hermione broke in hastily, raising up her hands in a placating gesture as they both turned their glares onto her. 'First Task? Dragons?' 

'Yes, as I was _ saying,' _Draco said, rising abruptly from his chair and pacing across the floor. 'If Harry tells them before the Champions find out from their Head teachers… and considering that Moody told you today, that's going to be pretty soon…' 

'I need to tell them today, got it,' Harry acquiesced, unaware of Ron and Hermione exchanging a bewildered glance at his easy acceptance; they loved Harry, but he was stubborn as a mule when he wanted to be. However, that glance didn't go unnoticed by Blaise, who simply smiled, something knowing glinting in his eyes as he glanced between Harry and Draco. 

'Harry, you have an Invisibility Cloak, yeah?' Sathya asked, her face lighting up. 

'Yeah, I do - wait, how do you know that?' 

'It's the worst kept secret in Hogwarts,' Pansy dismissed. 'Oh, I know where Sathya is going with this - how about you bring it into the Task, and then take the egg and leave?' 

'I don't _ really _ think that Harry would be allowed to do _ that,' _Hermione said. 'It's far more likely that he'll only be allowed on the Task with just his wand - and I don't think he can manage a Disillusionment Charm, in, what...' 

'Two weeks,' Ron said quietly. 

'So Summon it!' Blaise said triumphantly, his excited expression making Ron look at him with surprised fondness, before noticing Harry's eyes on him, and flushing and glancing away, a look that said_ if you mention this to anyone else, Harry, _on his face. 'Potter's already good at charms anyway - and it's a Fourth Year spell, too. We can meet up here and practice.' 

'I don't think I'll be able to meet up much,' Draco said stiffly. He had stopped pacing, and was instead gazing miserably up at the ceiling, determinedly not making eye contact with any of them. 'Crabbe and Goyle's been suspicious of me ever since I told them to not follow me around _ everywhere - _and it won't be long before they tell my father that something's wrong.' 

'I did promise I'd get you out of there, didn't I?' Harry said, trying to lighten the mood though he felt his smile was more forced that usual. He was surprised to feel a sense of concern for the blonde; he had always felt that he _ had _ to help Malfoy, before. He had _ wanted _ to help him before, of course, but this time, Harry felt that _ Draco _didn't come secondary to his sense of morality. 

Harry was surprised to realize that Draco Malfoy, the same Malfoy that he couldn't _ stand _ three months ago, was his _ friend _now. 

'It isn't easy as all that, Potter.' 

'It isn't hard as all that _ either, _Malfoy.' 

Draco rolled his eyes in return, putting a stop to the conversation pretty effectively. 

'And as for Black, leave it to me,' Pansy promised. 'My parents are solicitors - they'll be able to take care of it. Not to mention Blaise's mother is a force of nature herself.' 

'She owns part of the firm,' Blaise explained at their curious looks. 'She'd always had a knack for the law, and with all the… unsavoury things she's done, I don't think there was any other option. Though she _ loves _it, of course - being a lawyer was a dream come true for her, in more ways than one.' 

'Unsavoury things?' Harry asked, brows furrowed. 

'I'll explain later,' Blaise laughed, though it sounded a bit forced to Harry's ears. 'Much, _ much _later.' 

So nothing good, then. 

'Another thing,' Harry said suddenly, feeling inexplicably embarrassed as everyone automatically turned their eyes towards him. 'Why are you helping, really? Like… there's nothing that's going to serve as an advantage to you.' 

Blaise smiled. 'Maybe we just want to curry your favour.' 

Harry shook his head. 'That's not it - if you wanted to do that, you would have done that a _ long _time ago.' 

'What my emotionally inept friend is _ trying _ to say,' Pansy said, her lips edging into a thin smile. 'Is that we're your _ friends. _Of course we're going to help you.' 

'That's a lot of character development for someone who's hated Harry's guts for three years,' Ron commented, though more out of a need to be contrary than in actual hostility. He heard Hermione mutter a _ Honestly, Ron, _under her breath and couldn't help but smile. 

'That's a lot of character development for someone who didn't even know Blaise _ existed _ until about two months ago,' Pansy countered. Ron turned purple and started sputtering, apparently with no retort to _ that. _

Blaise patted him gently on the back. 'You know she's right, amore,' he said, the nickname sending Ron into a coughing fit so hard that Harry wasn't certain whether he should intervene. Hermione was smothering a chuckle behind her hands, and the others didn't look much better, so Harry just let them be, shooting a concerned look at his best friend who didn't seem to be recovering any time soon. 

Draco heaved an audible breath. 'I should be going,' he said, sounding like he was anything but pleased. 'Crabbe and Goyle are looking for me… I've stayed too much as it is.' 

'We'll come with you,' Sathya said, scrambling from her place, leaving no room for argument as to who the _ we _were. 'We'll meet up here in two days, same time, if it's alright with you?' 

Harry, Ron and Hermione glanced at each other before nodding. 'Fine with me,' Harry added, for good measure. 

'I'll see if I can make it,' Draco said, though he didn't sound _ that _ hopeful _ . _But the other Slytherins nodded; next Wednesday it was. 

Draco took one last look at the Gryffindors before he exited the Room of Requirement with the other Slytherins, making it a point to say, _ Remember to tell the Champions _ today, _ Potter, _before he left. 

Harry laughed. 'Of _ course _I will, do you think I'm dumb?' 

Draco's mocking laughter was an answer as any. 

When he looked back at Ron and Hermione after the Slytherins all had left, they both had eerily similar looks of realization on their faces. 

'I think…' Hermione said, biting her lip. 'We're -_ you're _making new friends, Harry.' 

'You know what?' Harry grinned softly at them both. 'I really think we are.' 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was all set in the same place... maybe i AM improving in my writing, after all. i revised the outline for this _again,_ because i apparently can't keep to a concrete plot lmao (i might change the chapter count again - it'll probably increase by a couple, we'll have to wait and see)  
thanks for everyone who's read and commented!! it makes me so happy that you like this and keeps me writing <3  
as always, comments and kudos keeps me going!

**Author's Note:**

> talk to me on [tumblr](https://a-sentimental-man.tumblr.com)


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